


A Year in the Life

by persephone_stone



Series: Best Laid Plans [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone_stone/pseuds/persephone_stone
Summary: Come spend a(nother) year in the life of all our favorite characters, and find out if happily ever after is really all it's cracked up to be.PART TWO to Best Laid Plans.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Ron Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Best Laid Plans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746049
Comments: 96
Kudos: 266





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to this lovely, fluffy world. 
> 
> Thank you for all your support for Best Laid Plans. Your comments and kudos give me LIFE.
> 
> Please come find me on [Tumblr](https://persephonestone.tumblr.com/) and [ Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/persephonestone2/).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Malfoys celebrate an important milestone in their son's life.
> 
> Theo and Val behave rather naughtily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to this lovely, fluffy world. Please accept this first chapter with my extreme gratitude to all who so warmly received Best Laid Plans. Your comments and kudos give me LIFE.
> 
> This work will probably have fewer chapters than Best Laid Plans, but will cover all the major events we all want to see! I am also not opposed to writing further one-shots of these characters and their families if people would be interested in that. Let me know in the comments!
> 
> I hope to post every other day. Subscribe to know when a new chapter is up!

Rain lashed the red brick exterior of the Granger-Malfoy residence, falling in sheets in the late February storm. The residents inside didn’t mind; couldn’t even hear the sound of the weather. Instead, the shrieks of children, sounds of laughter, and hum of conversation reigned supreme.

It was the 28th of February, and it was little Leo Malfoy’s first birthday.

Gathered to celebrate were his best friends and unofficial cousins: Hazel Longbottom, Apollo and Juno Weasley, and James Potter. The rest of the party was made up of all of his parents’ friends, who had insisted on bringing him lavish, over-the-top presents in an attempt to one-up each other (a time-honored tradition that was started at Apollo’s first birthday four months earlier, and continued at Hazel’s first birthday last month). His three grandparents, not to be outdone, had also piled mountains of presents for their first grandchild on the kitchen table, which groaned under the weight of all the wrapped boxes.

The guest of honor sat in his highchair, slapping his palms against the tray excitedly as Hermione carried a small cake over to him, Draco signalling to the others with his hands to begin singing.

_Happy Birthday to you,  
Happy Birthday to you,  
Happy Birthday, dear Leo,  
Happy Birthday to you!_

“Happy birthday, sweet boy,” Hermione said, placing the cake in front of her son and dropping a kiss on his head. She stepped back, reaching up to grasp Draco’s arms as they wrapped around her shoulders from behind, his face burying itself in her curls. The pair looked tearily at their son, who had changed their lives in every imaginable way. 

The past year had been made up of sleepless nights, nappy changes, drooly baby smiles, and too many firsts to count: first smile, first laugh, first time sitting up, first crawl across the room to Draco as Hermione cheered him on; first word (“Muh!” to his mummy); first high fever that had Draco and Hermione alternating shifts in the nursery all night, carefully recording potion doses and temperatures and cooling charms; first major argument between Draco and Hermione since they had been married— _I don’t know why he’s crying! Yes, of course I fed him! Well then you let him latch onto your nipple and give it a go if you’re so sure_ —followed by their first round of make-up sex and sincere apologies the next day; first toddling steps of their baby boy back and forth between the two of them as they sat on the floor of the library, tears streaming down both of their faces.

A tear trailed down Hermione’s cheek now as she watched Leo enthusiastically dig into the cake she had made especially for him, grinning up at her through crumbs and frosting, each hand clenched tightly around a fistful of the sugary treat.

“Muh?” he asked uncertainly.

“It’s okay, love,” she responded, feeling Draco squeeze her tighter. “Mummy is just feeling sentimental.”

“Daddy is too,” Draco’s voice said near her ear, followed by a gentle kiss. “Our baby’s not a baby anymore.”

“Da,” Leo agreed, returning his attention to the cake.

Poppy the house elf cut and served pieces of a matching, larger cake to the rest of the guests, and they all gathered in the kitchen around Leo, eating cake and sipping warm butterbeer.

Ron and Luna sat next to one another, their children on their laps. Almost four-year-old Juno dug into Ron’s piece of cake, offering one bite up to her father for every five bites she ate. Ron looked longingly at the cake slice, but said nothing. Apollo sat chest to chest with Luna, legs resting on either side of her hips as he snored softly, red hair mussed and chubby face smushed into his mother’s cleavage. Ron looked longingly at that, as well.

Harry and Daphne, whose wedding would take place in just over a month, leaned in close to one another, fingers entwined. Harry pressed a soft kiss to Daphne’s temple, and she rested her head against his shoulder with a smile. 

Ginny, Miles, and James were across from them, hosting a heated debate about which quidditch team had the strongest seeker this year. As the child of two former Quidditch players, James had rather strong opinions about the sport. 

Pansy and Neville stood at the island with Draco and Hermione, their daughter Hazel giggling uproariously at Neville’s antics with a charmed napkin, which twirled and floated through the air, landing repeatedly on his head. 

“Where’s Theo?” Pansy asked, licking chocolate frosting off the tines of her fork in a way that made Neville’s eyes go slightly crossed. 

“Wherever Val is, I’d imagine,” Draco responded, swooping Leo up in his arms, not minding in the least the chocolate that immediately became smeared over his high-end clothing. 

Hermione’s head jerked up at her husband’s words, eyes darting around the kitchen to find that yes, in fact, their friends were missing. 

“I specifically told Theo they could not have sex during our son’s birthday party!” she hissed at Draco. 

“Ses!” Leo exclaimed, wriggling with glee. Draco barked out a laugh, stopping short when he saw the look on Hermione’s face. 

“Let’s go give this little lion a bath,” he suggested, which prompted Leo to make his fiercest lion face. “And maybe his auntie and uncle will be back by the time we return. They wouldn’t miss him opening his presents, now would they?” he added, directing the last sentence at Leo. 

“Dey,” Leo agreed, nodding back at his father, mimicking his serious silver gaze perfectly. 

“They had better not,” Hermione muttered darkly, following Draco upstairs to the bathroom. 

*****

Theo and Valentina were not, in fact, having sex. Not yet, anyway. They were currently locked in a sitting room toward the front of the house, far away from the kitchens and birthday party so as not to be disturbed.

Val was sitting on one of the dove gray settees in the room, head resting against its back. One would have thought she was asleep if not for the low moans coming from her throat, the tossing of her dark hair against the settee, and the fact that she was naked from the waist down, her fiance’s very talented tongue licking deep between her thighs.

“Theo,” she moaned, threading her fingers through his thick hair, pulling him tighter against her and gasping when he added two fingers to his ministrations. He had lovely hands, piano player’s hands, with long fingers and graceful movements. And his favorite thing to do with his hands was touch the woman he loved. 

Val shuddered above him, releasing a soft cry from between her lips as her thighs clamped around his head. He continued lapping at her steadily, waiting to pull away until the last after-shocks of her orgasm abated.

“Oh fuck, baby,” she whispered, yanking him up by the front of his shirt to kiss her. “I needed that.”

“No, _I_ needed that,” Theo replied, peppering kisses down the line of her throat. “If I had to look at your arse in those jeans for one second longer without being able to touch or taste you, I was going to come in my pants at a baby’s birthday party,” he murmured, returning to kiss her with slow, deep thrusts of his tongue into her mouth.

He jumped when he felt her fingers moving at his waist, deftly unbuttoning his trousers and shoving her hand inside, never removing her mouth from his as she grasped his cock. He thrust into her hand, loving the feel of her soft skin wrapped around his most sensitive appendage, whimpering low in his throat as she stroked her thumb over the tip, collecting the bead of pre-come that had gathered there during his attentions to his future wife.

She broke their kiss, pulling him down to the settee and moving to kneel in front of him. 

“You don’t have to—” he started, desperately wanting her to.

“Shut up and let me blow you,” she said in a husky murmur, and Merlin, he could have come from the sound of her voice alone.

He nodded, wriggling his jeans down over his hips and spreading his legs. She moved between them, grasping his cock in her hand and stroking it gently, steadily increasing the pace until he threw his head back, hissing between his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, desperately trying to hold off his orgasm. 

“Theo,” her voice came again, and he opened his eyes but continued to stare at the ceiling, not trusting his brain or body’s reaction to the sight of the sinfully gorgeous woman kneeling between his legs. “I want you to watch me,” she breathed, and _oh gods_ her lips were right against his cock.

“I’ll come,” he whined, shaking his head against the back of the settee.

“Yes, you will,” she promised, licking a thin stripe up the underside of him. He shuddered, clenching his fists against the seat cushions until every vein in his arms stood out. “Come on baby,” she said again, sliding her hands up his thighs, under his shirt to trace his belly, up his chest to give his nipples a tweak.

He sighed, revelling in the sweet torment of her touch. She was so good to him; so generous with her love, her thoughts, her trust, her body. Dropping his chin, he met her hot gaze, and was rewarded with the sight of her sucking the tip of his cock between her full, full lips. One of her hands came back down to grasp the base of him, twisting and sliding as she built a rhythm that slowly drove him insane.

She took him deeper into her mouth, working him with her tongue and letting him bump against the back of her throat until he was sure her jaw ached. But she didn’t stop. She just continued to suck happily at his cock, teasing the skin of his thighs with her other hand, raising goosebumps in its wake.

She switched hands, moving the one that had been grasping his cock to travel under the hem of her top, sliding over her full breast and kneading firmly. 

He began panting. 

She slid her hand down her belly to furiously rub at her clit, grinding her hips against the air as she hollowed out her cheeks around him. He gave another low whimper, reaching down to thread his fingers through her glossy locks and thrusting gently into her mouth. 

When she began moaning, the sounds providing a glorious vibration against his sensitive flesh, he tapped her cheek, letting her know he was about to come. She shook her head, a signal that let him know she was okay with him coming in her mouth—that she wanted him to. The combination of sight, sound, and touch finally proved too much for Theo and he came with a hoarse cry, curling his upper body over Val as she swallowed him down.

He came back to consciousness slowly, feeling her clever tongue lapping gently at him as he rested his forehead against the top of her head. With great care, she tucked him back inside his trunks, then kissed her way up his stomach, across his chest, up his throat, over his face, finishing with a soft, loving kiss to the top of his head. 

His head dropped back when she released him, eyes gazing up at her with fierce devotion. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asked quietly.

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, summoning her knickers from the floor and pulling them on before climbing into his lap. “What did I do to deserve _you?_ ” she echoed.

“Had an amazing brain, body, and heart. Oh, and you let me fuck you the day we met,” he teased, belying his flippant words with a tender kiss to her throat.

“Same,” she returned, grinning. “Now, we should get dressed and freshen up a bit. It wouldn’t do to miss your godson opening his presents, now would it?”

He shuddered dramatically. “No, Hermione would kill me. She’ll also kill me if she finds out what we did in here. She specifically told me no sex at Leo’s party.”

Val stopped in the act of pulling on the skintight jeans that had started this whole episode. “Theo!” she cried, mouth dropping open in shock. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“Oral doesn’t count,” he said with a shrug, standing to pull his own jeans back on and then laughing when he was immediately pushed back down.

“Jerk,” she murmured, but her eyes said differently.

“Bint,” he returned, licking his lips in anticipation of their return home later.

She smiled, offering him her hand and pulling him back up to stand beside her. His arms came around her, hands dropping to squeeze her arse. She pressed a kiss onto his collar bone, cast a quick freshening charm over both of them, and then tangled her fingers with his, leading him through the door and down the long hallway to the main living room.

Hermione glared at Theo as they came through the door, quickly making their way over to sit with the rest of the group and watch Leo tear into his presents, seemingly more interested in the boxes and wrapping than what was inside them. 

After a flurry of group pictures—Leo and his parents, Leo and his grandparents, Leo and his mum and dad _and_ grandparents, everyone all together—they said their goodbyes, Leo waving his tiny hand and echoing “Bye-bye!” to each guest as they stepped through the floo. 

When it was finally just the three of them again, Hermione and Draco put Leo down for a much-needed nap, then headed to their bedroom, fully intending to have a long shag session, complete with several orgasms. 

“I’m just going to rest my eyes for a moment,” Hermione started, slipping her shoes off and laying her glorious head of hair down on one of their many soft pillows, reaching over to hold Draco’s hand as her eyes closed. 

“I’ll do the same Granger. Great party, Leo got lots of toys...he probably won’t...even play...with…” Draco trailed off, eyelids heavy and speech slurring. 

The two of them, so in love but also _so_ very tired, had both fallen fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, dear Leo!
> 
> Please come find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/persephonestone) and [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/persephonestone2/). You can also find my author profile on FB if you want to be friends!


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the moment we've all been waiting for: THE HAPHNE WEDDING. Put on your wizarding finest and join the celebration.
> 
> Meet a few new faces (to this universe), while you're at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my most loyal, creative, hilarious reviewer and virtual best friend, riel. I hope I did Harry and Daphne's wedding justice for you.
> 
> Also, take a minute to TREAT YO SELF and check out [this](https://upthehillart.tumblr.com/post/164844229699/harry-im-going-to-try-with-everything-ive) lovely piece of art by [upthehill](https://upthehillart.tumblr.com/). It's how I picture Harry in this story. Try not to drool.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. Big hugs and Leo kisses to you all.

_You are cordially invited to the wedding of_

_**Daphne Rose Greengrass** _

_and_

_**Harry James Potter** _

__

_Sunday, the 3rd of April, 2010_  
_11 o’clock in the morning  
_ _Potter Manor, Devonshire  
_ _Reception to follow_

__

The big day was finally here, and there was a flurry of early morning activity in the large master suite of the newly-christened Potter Manor. 

Hermione and Luna lounged in wingback chairs in front of the suite’s fireplace, already dressed in the pale blue chiffon that all Daphne’s bridesmaids were wearing. On the floor at their feet were a very squirmy Apollo, Hazel, and Leo, their chubby fingers reaching up to grab at the paper dragons Luna was charming for them. Juno sat cross-legged on the floor at a nearby coffee table, playing a child’s version of wizard’s chess with her Aunt Ginny.

Daphne sat in a robe at her vanity, allowing Pansy to charm her hair into a low bun. Valentina stood nearby, holding the sprig of eucalyptus and white roses that would provide the finishing touch.

An excited shriek came from Hazel as she caught a dragon in her hand, tiny teeth flashing in a wide grin.

“Clever girl!” Pansy cooed, turning to clap for her daughter. “You teach those boys that anything they can do, girls can do better.”

“Durl!” Leo echoed happily, pulling himself up to stand next to his mother, who smoothed his blonde hair before kissing his cheek. He wore a tiny gray morning suit, as did Apollo, who sat solemnly on the floor and blinked at his friend. 

“Well, I think that’s it Daph,” Val said, stepping back in a swish of fabric and sighing happily. “You are just the most beautiful bride,” she added in a choked voice, fanning at her eyes to stop her tears from falling.

Daphne laughed, standing and patting Val on the shoulder. “I’m not even in my dress yet! Save those tears, Valentina.”

As if she had been waiting for her cue, Astoria Greengrass pushed through the wide double doors of the master suite, a charmed garment bag floating through the air behind her. Her short blonde hair was styled in a chic, chin-length bob and a diamond tennis bracelet sparkled on her wrist; a gift from her wealthy Quidditch player boyfriend.

“Daphne, darling!” she cried, rushing to pull her older sister into a hug. “Hi girls!” she added, waving at the others and blowing air kisses as she stepped back from Daphne.

A knock came at the door, interrupting their greetings. 

“Is everyone dressed? I’ve brought the flowers,” came Neville Longbottom’s voice through the doors. A moment later Neville strode through, looking quite handsome in his own gray morning suit. He pushed a wheeled tray into the room, covered in bouquets made of lilies, roses, and boughs of eucalyptus, their stems tied with pale blue ribbon. 

“Already pinned the boutonnieres on the lads,” Neville said, allowing Pansy to grab his tie and pull him down for a kiss before leaning over to swoop Hazel up into his arms. “Harry looks very handsome,” he added, winking at Daphne while his daughter patted both his cheeks.

“I’m sure he does,” Daphne replied with a dreamy smile.

“These are so beautiful Neville,” Hermione breathed, looking over the bouquets while holding Leo on her hip. 

“Vul,” Leo agreed. 

From his new place on his mother’s lap, Apollo blinked again, looking up to Luna for confirmation that the bouquets were, in fact, beautiful.

“It was lovely of you to use lilies,” Ginny said softly, briefly squeezing Daphne’s hand. Daphne smiled back at her, grateful for her friendship and grace in the middle of what could have been an incredibly awkward time. Being a bridesmaid to the woman who was marrying your ex-husband and father of your child was not a position many women would voluntarily put themselves in, but Ginny did it gladly. They—Daphne and Harry, Ginny and Miles—were all navigating these new waters together for James. 

“Alright, time to get dressed,” Hermione exclaimed, glancing at the clock on the mantle and ushering Neville out of the door. 

Pansy took Hazel’s hand, reassuring her that they would see Daddy in just a few moments, and quickly dressed her in her white flower girl dress, tying a blue sash at her waist. Luna did the same for Juno, while Ginny placed flower crowns of eucalyptus and baby's breath on each of the girls’ heads. 

Hermione and Val sat with Leo and Apollo on Daphne and Harry’s bed while Astoria and Pansy helped Daphne step into her wedding gown, carefully guiding her arms through the delicate sleeves of sheer lace, fluffing the tulle skirts, pinning her veil into her hair. 

When Daphne turned to face them again, the room fell silent. Everyone stood, gazing at the beautiful vision of Daphne Greengrass in her wedding gown, looking for all the world like a fairy princess in a child’s story. 

“Auntie Daph!” Juno exclaimed, darting past her mother to stand in front of Daphne, eyes wide with awe. “Are you real?”

Daphne laughed, opening her arms for a hug, kissing Juno’s head gently. “Very real, Junebug. Now, let’s go find Uncle Harry.”

They made their way down the stairs of the manor house, across the parqueted floor and into the kitchens, where they would make their exit one at a time out to the back gardens and the ceremony site. 

Draco and Ron waited for them inside, sitting at the kitchen table and drinking fire whiskey. 

As soon as Leo saw his father, he began squirming frantically, desperate to be put down. Draco took pity on his son, quickly standing and striding over to him, lifting Leo into his arms and kissing his temple. 

“You look lovely, darling,” he said to Hermione, leaning in to kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear, “You’ll look even lovelier tonight when you’re naked in our bed.” 

Hermione smiled, using his closeness to give him a taste of his own medicine. “And you’ll look lovely while I’m sucking your cock, husband.”

Draco made a strangled sound, which caused Leo to giggle. “Yes, your mum’s a cheeky one,” he said to his son, staring at Hermione while he pressed another kiss to Leo’s soft hair. “Let’s go, my boy. We’ll deal with her later.”

Hermione shivered in anticipation. 

Ron took Apollo from Luna’s arms, with a gentle “Alright, son?” that caused Apollo’s normally stoic visage to break into a huge smile. He kicked his legs happily as Ron carried him out the door, followed closely by Draco and Leo. They joined Neville and Theo in their places of honor as Harry’s groomsmen.

A few moments later, gentle music floated through the open doorway, signaling that it was time for the women to make their way up the aisle. 

“Here we go,” Pansy breathed, adjusting her ample bosom inside her dress. 

Val went first, followed by Luna, then Ginny, then Hermione, then Pansy. 

Astoria turned to her sister before leaving, searching her face for nerves. She saw none; Daphne’s face was beautifully serene. She smiled at Astoria, nodding and silently assuring her that everything was okay. 

Finally, Juno made her way bravely up the aisle, dropping the rose petals like she and her mummy had practiced. When she got to the front, she grinned and waved at her Uncle Harry before going to stand by Luna. 

And then came the moment they’d all been waiting for. 

Harry and Daphne had originally planned to have a small wedding. But the wedding of The Chosen One—who also happened to currently hold a prestigious position as Head Auror of the Ministry of Magic—proved more challenging than they’d expected. 

So as Daphne appeared under the arch of roses and lilies, she was met by hundreds of people standing to watch her begin her walk down the long aisle. Friends and professors from their time at Hogwarts, co-workers from the Auror Department, artist friends of Daphne’s, a few select friends of her late parents, Narcissa and Andromeda and young Teddy Lupin, and at least two dozen Weasleys turned as she passed them, crying into their handkerchiefs and smiling happily as the beautiful bride went by, skirts swishing gently behind her. 

As for Daphne, she only had eyes for Harry. 

He stood proudly at the altar, looking devastatingly handsome in his gray morning suit, dark hair styled somewhat into submission and stubbled beard tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. His green eyes sparkled at her from behind his glasses, looking suspiciously bright with tears as she approached him. 

He stepped forward and took her hand, leaning over to press a kiss to her fingers. She handed her bouquet off to her sister, then turned to give Harry’s best man—his son and her biggest fan, James—a hug and a kiss on the cheek before taking both of Harry’s hands in hers. 

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic and officiant for the day’s ceremonies, cleared his throat.

“Witches and wizards, we are gathered here this morning to celebrate the marriage of Harry and Daphne. Two people who found love together despite a war, despite adversity, despite all odds.”

Kingsley read remarks from Harry and Daphne on the history of their relationship, made everyone cry with a letter from James to his “Mummy Daph,” and then it was time for the vows. Kingsley read and they repeated, with Daphne going first.

“I Daphne, take you Harry, to be my husband. To have and to hold you. To honor you, to treasure you. To be by your side in sorrow and joy, in good times and bad. To love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.”

Harry’s thumbs stroked the back of Daphne’s hands as she repeated her vows, raising goosebumps over her entire body. He gave her a secret smile before repeating his own.

“I Harry, take you Daphne, to be my wife. To have and to hold you. To honor you, to treasure you. To be by your side in sorrow and joy, in good times and bad. To love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.”

Then they were exchanging rings, James handing his father a thin gold band and Daphne turning to accept Harry’s thicker gold band from Astoria. Magic swirled around them as Kingsley performed the spell to officially join their lives, the air sparking and crackling with the energy of two becoming one.

Then finally— _finally_ —they were being pronounced husband and wife, and Harry was stepping forward to take Daphne in his arms and kiss her. The kiss started out sweet, but soon became passionate; Daphne wrapped her arms around her husband’s shoulders as he shifted her even closer to his body, leaning her back to kiss her more thoroughly.

When they finally broke apart, after the entirety of their audience had begun cheering and clapping, they made their way back down the aisle together, laughing and holding hands and stopping once more to kiss passionately as they rounded the corner by the manor house.

A few hours later, after a lovely luncheon, a great deal of champagne, and an adorable toast from the best man, the music started and Harry and Daphne kicked off the dancing.

Harry twirled her around the ballroom floor, her dress floating around them like a cloud. He effortlessly performed the steps they had been practicing, and then when the music changed, shifting to a heavier beat and faster rhythm, he pulled her flush against him, lifting her off the ground and spinning her as she threw her head back and laughed.

Their friends joined them on the dance floor, jumping and twirling and laughing. 

Hermione held Leo in her arms, Draco wrapped around them from behind as they rocked side to side, Leo happily shrieking and pulling at his mother’s curls.

Neville and Pansy each held one of Hazel’s hands, forming a circle of Longbottoms. Hazel hopped as they moved, black curls bouncing prettily.

Ron stood off to the side of the dance floor, Apollo seated on his shoulders as he stood watching Luna and Juno dance. They moved gracefully, like ballet dancers, and only laughed when some of the other Weasleys—Bill and Fleur’s daughters, Victoire and Genevieve, as well as George, his (very pregnant) wife Parvati, and their three-year-old daughter Seraphina—moved into their space, kicking and spinning.

Ginny and Miles were pressed into a corner, full-on snogging, Ginny’s thigh hitched up over Miles’ hip and his hands kneading her arse. Scandalized, Molly Weasley shot a light hex at her daughter and motioned for them to take their antics elsewhere. 

Theo and Val didn’t bother finding a corner; they ground against each other in the middle of the dance floor, Theo’s lips attached to Val’s neck. Her large diamond engagement ring twinkled on the hand that she currently had buried in his hair. Their own wedding was a mere four months away, and that thought was getting them both a bit hot and bothered.

Astoria was suspiciously absent, but Daphne could only think on that a moment before she found James, pulling him in to dance with her and teaching him a few simple moves that she and Theo used to do when they were children. She twirled him, both of them laughing uproariously, but she froze when she met Harry’s gaze. He was standing at the bar, leaning casually against it, one foot propped in front of the other and a hot, lust-filled look on his face.

 _Was it time to go upstairs yet?_ She dearly hoped so.

After many more dances, lots of wedding cake, and a rowdy bouquet toss—which was, ironically, won by Cho Chang, Quidditch star and girlfriend of Charlie Weasley—Harry and Daphne bid their guests farewell. James was staying at the Burrow with Molly and Arthur tonight, so they would have the entire third floor to themselves.

They made their way quickly up the first two flights of stairs, but on the second floor landing, Harry paused to bend and lift her into his arms.

He took the last flight of stairs slowly, treading over to their bedroom doors and wandlessly opening them to carry her across the threshold. 

“Mrs. Potter,” he said, setting her on her feet.

“Mr. Potter,” she replied, letting her eyes trace the beloved features of his face.

Their restraint broke at the same time.

They lunged at each other, teeth clashing in their haste to kiss, to touch, to feel.

His jacket hit the floor first, followed closely by his tie and waistcoat. He paused her in the act of unbuttoning his shirt, gesturing for her to turn so he could carefully undo the back of her dress. His fingers lifted to pull the flowers from her hair, gently loosening her bun and letting the golden strands fall around her shoulders, brushing it aside to drop a gentle kiss to the back of her neck.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed against her skin. “My heart almost burst when I saw you coming down the aisle toward me. I had to physically stop myself from running to you and kissing you senseless.”

Daphne laughed softly, shivering as his lips traced the curve of her shoulder. She allowed him to pull her arms free from the bodice of her gown, arching her back when his warm hands cupped her now-bare breasts. Clever fingers toyed with her nipples, knowing what her body liked and exactly how to give it to her. 

She sighed prettily when his hands left her skin, but smiled in anticipation when he came around to stand in front of her, hair mussed and shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He dropped to his knees, lifting her mountain of skirts and then crawling underneath them. 

She felt his fingers trace her ankles, holding her steady as he helped her remove first one shoe, then the other. Then those clever fingers trailed up her calves, gently tickling behind her knees before moving higher to skate across her inner thighs. Her legs trembled as they came achingly close to her center, then danced away to resume their exploration of the back of her thighs and her bum. 

She leaned against one of the bedposts for support as Harry suddenly yanked her thighs apart and she felt his hot breath against the front of her knickers. She let out a soft cry at the feel of his tongue working its way up from her knee to tease the skin at the seam of her leg, the cry turning into a sob as he set his mouth against her at last. 

His tongue—his fucking marvelous, talented tongue—lapped softly at her clit as she shivered and shook above him. Dimly, she felt her knickers being pulled down her legs, but then her world shifted as Harry lifted her, toppling her back onto the mattress and tossing her skirts up over her head. She was cocooned in a waterfall of ivory tulle, the absence of sight serving to heighten the sensations of the glorious sucking and licking that was happening between her legs. She writhed under him, thrilling at the feel of his strong hands pushing her legs wider, providing him better access to her body, increasing the pace of his tongue until she cried out, arching her back off the bed and quaking with the force of her orgasm. 

Suddenly she could see again, see the face of her handsome husband as he lowered her skirts, motioning for her to lift her hips so he could carefully remove her gown. As she lay in a post-orgasmic haze, he made quick work of his remaining clothing, then crawled onto the bed, pulling them both up to lay on the mountains of downy pillows. 

He kissed her, the taste of her on his tongue only serving to fan the embers of her desire into towering flames. 

“I need you to fuck me. _Right now,_ ” she ordered, breaking their kiss and rolling onto her back, pulling him on top of her as she spread her legs wide. 

“Happy to serve you, dear wife,” Harry growled, waggling his brows at her as he teased her slick folds with his cock. 

When he finally slid into her, starting slow but building to a teeth-jarring pace that shook the bed and rattled the walls, they both gasped, those noises quickly turning to groans and cries and screams of ecstasy. 

“I’m so close,” she panted into his ear, lifting her legs to wrap around his hips. “Come inside me, Harry. Come inside me so hard I can feel it.”

He let out a primal roar, snapping his hips so fast they may have blurred, and then they were both screaming, faces red, heads thrown back, veins standing out in their necks with the force of their orgasms. 

Harry collapsed on top of Daphne, exhausted and more satisfied than he had ever been in his life. Defeating Voldemort had absolutely nothing on fucking Daphne Greengrass—Daphne Potter, now. 

She welcomed the weight of his body, wrapping her arms around him and dusting kisses across his cheek while their breathing slowed. 

“Holy fuck,” he said finally, voice muffled by the pillow and Daphne’s hair, which he had his face pressed into. 

“Indeed, Mr. Potter,” Daphne replied. “Indeed.”

*****

Astoria Greengrass was having a shit day. While she absolutely adored her big sister and new brother-in-law, and felt immense guilt at skiving off after the reception luncheon, it couldn’t be helped. If she had to sit there with a happy smile on her face much longer, watching her sister and all her friends be madly in love, she was going to vomit.

Just that morning, her boyfriend—the fucking arsehole—had sent her an owl telling her that he thought they should be in an _open relationship_. Start seeing _other people_. Or maybe just _take a break altogether._

“Fuck you, you fucking twat,” she muttered darkly, kicking at the stones of the twisting path she followed, heading to the fountain at the center of the maze she and Daphne had loved playing in as young girls. 

Alfie Jones-Smythe was the current seeker for the Appleby Arrows; a tall, handsome athlete with piercing blue eyes, auburn hair, and a decent cock. He and Astoria had been dating for six months, and she was quite sure that he had been cheating on her for at least five.

Furious with herself for putting up with his behavior for so long, and especially pissed off that he had owled her on the morning of her sister’s wedding to essentially break up with her, she kicked out furiously at the hedge at her side, immediately howling in pain and hopping on one foot when her toes connected with a thick branch.

She limped ahead, cursing underneath her breath the whole way, until she finally made it to her destination. But rather than the peaceful bubbling of the fountain that she yearned for, she was greeted by a rather unwelcome sight: Blaise Zabini, close friend of her sister and the other Slytherins in her circle, stretched out on the fountain’s wide bench, eyes closed in apparent sleep.

 _Well isn’t this just bloody perfect_ she thought with a sigh, turning to leave before he could spot her.

“Hello, Astoria,” his deep voice drawled from behind her, freezing her in her tracks.

Rolling her eyes, she turned to face him, finding his eyes still closed.

“How did you know it was me?” she asked, hobbling over to sit on the bench a safe distance away from him and kicking off her shoes. 

“I caught a whiff of brimstone in the air,” he replied, opening one eye to squint at her against the afternoon sun.

“Still a comedian, I see,” Astoria grumbled.

He sat up, rubbing a hand over his neatly trimmed beard. “Still have a filthy mouth, I hear.”

She dropped her gaze, cheeks heating at the memory his words sparked: a night of tangled sheets, bare skin, and filthy whispers in each others’ ears.

“Nothing to say to that, eh?” Blaise said, smirking. “Very on-brand, love. Reminds me of when you left my bed in the middle of the night and then disappeared for months.”

Astoria glared at him. _Oh, I want to slap his handsome, chiseled face,_ she thought darkly, then cursed herself for the adjectives her brain had supplied. “Shut your mouth, Zabini,” she hissed. 

He scooted closer to her, dark eyes narrowing on the foot she was rubbing and her overall agitated state. “Funny,” he murmured, “I seem to remember you liking my mouth when you were sitting on my face.”

She reached over and punched him in the ribs. Hard.

“Ouch, witch,” he said, catching her arm as she drew away.

Astoria wrenched her arm in his hold, practically hissing at him when he refused to let go. A well-placed jab to his crotch with her free hand secured her release.

“What the hell, Astoria?” Blaise howled, curling away from her into the fetal position.

“Look Blaise, I’ve had a really long, shitty day, and it’s only 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Just do me a favor and fuck off, would you?” she replied, turning her back on him and fighting with every ounce of her _considerably_ strong will to stop herself from crying.

Silence came from behind her. She sniffled, collecting herself before turning to find him standing a few steps away from her, rubbing the back of his neck and looking rather uncomfortable.

She let out an exasperated sigh, pushing to her feet and moving to walk past him. Again, his hand caught her arm, but his fingers were gentle this time. Soft.

“I—” he started, breaking off to clear his throat before continuing. “What’s wrong?”

“My boyfriend’s a wanker. Ex,” she amended, grimacing.

“An ex-wanker?” Blaise said, and she looked up at him because really, he was not that dense, only to find him smirking at her. That smirk did funny things to her stomach; always had.

“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected.

He absorbed that information with a neutral expression, but the hand on her arm tightened. 

“Ow,” she said softly, and he looked down, as if just remembering that he was touching her. He released her immediately, stepping back to put space between them. 

She watched him, following the movements of his tall, lithe body as he shoved his hands in his pockets, like he couldn’t be trusted to have them free. He had always seemed electrically charged; a current of energy running through his body and causing him to be in constant motion: fingers tapping, feet shuffling, knee bouncing. Today was no different; his body vibrated at a low frequency until he could take it no longer and began shifting from foot to foot.

“When did you call it off with him?” he finally asked.

“He broke it off with me, actually,” Astoria responded. “This morning. By owl.”

Blaise looked properly insulted on her behalf. “You’re right, he _is_ a wanker.”

Astoria shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he was cheating on me for most of our relationship, so I guess it’s no big loss. It was just a shite way to start the day. Especially _this_ day.”

She heard him make a noise that, had she not known any better, would have been characterized as a growl. When he spoke, his voice was low and serious. “He’s not just a wanker, then. He’s the stupidest man alive.”

“You’ll get no argument from me there,” she said, giving him a small smile.

He held her gaze, deep brown eyes looking steadily into her blue ones, until she felt her breath catch on the intensity of the moment.

“Look, Blaise, about that night—” she started, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

“We don’t have to talk about it. I was just trying to get a rise out of you earlier,” he said with a shrug. 

But she knew his body language; had been a careful observer of him since fourth year at Hogwarts, when her hormones had come raging to life. She had found herself fantasizing about him often, exploring her own body to the thought of his smooth, caramel-colored skin as she lay behind the curtains of her bed in the Slytherin dormitory. Years of study told her that he _did_ want to talk about that night.

“Blaise,” she said, “I’m sorry I left that night. I just—I panicked. But I didn’t think you’d care. I thought I was just another one-night stand to you.”

“You weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she echoed softly. 

He shrugged again, as if it didn’t matter. His clenched jaw and tense muscles told her it did.

She sighed, unwilling to push him any further. She moved past him to the exit of the maze, planning to floo home for a long soaking bath and a glass of wine when a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Wait, why were _you_ out here?” 

He blushed, dropping his gaze from hers and smiling at his shoes. 

“Um, I had to escape from my date,” he answered with a grimace. “Remember Romilda Vane? I’m pretty sure she’s trying to steal one of my kidneys. She’s...intense.”

She threw her head back and laughed at the irony of Blaise Zabini, notorious womanizer, having to hide from his date. And his particular choice of woman…

“Wait,” she said, wheezing with laughter, “you brought _Romilda Vane_ to Harry and Daph’s wedding? The girl who tried to dose Harry with love potion?”

He laughed with her, eyes flitting over her face as she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. His smile was soft, genuine, and unlike their night together last year—didn’t scare her in the least.

“Yeah, not my smartest decision,” he said. He tapped his fingers against his leg before continuing. “Listen, Astoria,” he ventured, sounding a little nervous, which was another interesting development in her mind. “Would you want to grab a drink sometime? Or maybe dinner? Or even lunch, I could do lunch…” he said, trailing off as she took his hand.

“Okay,” she responded. “I could do that.”

They made their way out of the maze together, chatting lightly about their jobs—she sang background vocals for several famous wizarding world musicians; he was a banker at the French branch of Gringotts.

 _Well,_ Astoria thought as they crossed the garden, heading back into the house to floo home, _this day has finally started to look up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite details to write this chapter were, in no particular order:
> 
> -Serious Apollo  
> -Adorable Leo  
> -Florist Neville  
> -Lovely Daphne, who has never met a child she couldn't charm  
> -Best Son James  
> -A slight re-writing of some of the Weasley's pairings and names.  
> -Cho Chang and Charlie, inspired by the freaking GENIUS [PacificRimbaud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacificRimbaud/pseuds/PacificRimbaud). She is also solely responsible for my uncontrollable love for Neville + Pansy.  
> -The wedding night (goes without saying, right?)  
> -Astoria! I've only ever read her as snobby and cold, but my versions of these characters don't roll like that. They're snarky and moody and of course...ahem...horny for each other. ;)
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/persephonestone) and [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/persephonestone2/), especially if you'd like to see the details of this lovely wedding.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang celebrates Harry's birthday with some good, old-fashioned karaoke.
> 
> Blaise and Astoria attend a ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you like what you've read, please leave me a comment! I love seeing your feedback.
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/persephonestone) and [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/persephonestone2/).

Hermione stood in front of the bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. It was Harry’s birthday weekend, and she and Draco were joining their friends for drinks at a new bar in Diagon Alley to celebrate.

Nodding at her reflection, she slipped her feet into a pair of heels and went to find her husband.

It was no great mystery where he would be; as a prolific reader (and writer of quite a few children’s stories himself), he loved nothing more than reading to their son. She found the two of them snuggled together in an overstuffed armchair in the library, pale heads bent over a copy of the muggle children’s book _The Very Hungry Caterpillar._

Draco looked up as Hermione entered the room, smiling flirtatiously as he read aloud. “On Monday he ate through one apple, but he was _still hungry._ ”

A thrill ran up her spine as she held his gaze, tracing the line of her neck with her hand, sliding her fingertips down over the outline of her breast. His eyes hungrily tracked her motions.

“Da!” came Leo’s voice, interrupting their eye-fucking. His little hand slapped the open pages of the book, demanding that his father finish reading.

Draco cleared his throat, nodding at Leo’s upturned face. “Ah yes, so sorry. Mummy distracted me.”

As he resumed his reading, Hermione heard someone come through the floo in the drawing room. She turned to greet Narcissa, who was eagerly performing one of her grandmotherly duties by watching Leo while Hermione and Draco had a night out with their friends.

“Hello, my dear,” Narcissa said, kissing both of Hermione’s cheeks. “Where is my little boy?” she asked in a sing-song voice, making her way over to Draco and Leo, who was grinning toothily at his grandmother.

“Right here, Mother,” Draco replied, closing the book with a flourish.

Narcissa smiled, kissing her son on the head before stretching her arms out for Leo, who went to her without hesitation.

“You and Gran are going to have such fun tonight,” she said, bouncing him on her hip. “We are going to have a lovely bubble bath, and put on our pajamas, and then Gran will read you as many stories as you want!”

Leo squirmed in delight, kicking his legs and shrieking, “Gan!”

Draco crossed the room to Hermione, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “Remember, he needs to be in bed by 7 o’clock. In his crib,” he reminded her, having come home one too many nights to find his mother curled up in a guest bedroom with her sleeping grandson in her arms.

Narcissa waved an elegant hand in their direction, kissing Leo’s soft cheek. “Yes, yes. Go and have fun. I will take good care of this fierce lion.” Leo growled, baring all six of his teeth. 

Draco and Hermione kissed Leo goodbye, Hermione pulling him into her arms for an extra squeeze before heading out the door to the nearest apparition point. 

They held hands as they walked, the summer night air cocooning them in its warm embrace. Just before they arrived at the apparition point, Draco pulled Hermione into a shadowed corner on the quiet street, her back against the stones of the wall as he leaned into her, mouth stopping a mere breath away from hers.

“Are you trying to drive me insane?” he murmured softly, letting his fingers trace up her arms, over her shoulders, up the delicate skin of her neck. “Your body in this dress, Hermione, _fucking hell._ Do you think Harry would mind if we missed his birthday?” 

As he spoke, his fingers continued their exploration of her, trailing down to massage her breasts, tease her nipples, tickle her belly. When they reached the hem of her dress they paused, then one hand slid slowly underneath her skirt, hiking it up just enough to reach its intended destination.

His lips brushed her throat, making her voice come out breathy and strained. “Yes, he would mind, and so would I,” she said, but she spread her legs a bit wider to provide better access to Draco’s talented fingers. He teased her, stroking lightly across her clit and making her hips jerk impatiently.

“Draco,” she gasped as he drew his hand away, but he merely brought two fingers to her lips.

“Suck,” he commanded in a low voice, the one that always sent shivers down her spine. She obeyed, opening her lips to take his fingers into her mouth, sucking hard, watching his eyes glaze over at the sight.

Then those clever fingers returned to their home between her legs, pushing her knickers aside, stroking, finding her wet and ready for him.

He pushed one finger into her wetness, curling it inside her body and making her head drop back against the stone wall. His other finger quickly joined in, sliding and twisting, dragging gasps from her throat. He sucked at the spot where her neck met her shoulder, and she gripped his arms tightly, shaking and letting out a soft cry as she came.

His fingers slid from her body, rearranging her knickers before rising to his lips, disappearing into his own mouth as he sucked them greedily.

Her eyes were locked on his, unable to look away from the sight. 

“Ready for the party, Mrs. Malfoy?” he asked, stepping back and adjusting himself in his trousers.

“Don’t you want—” she began, voice strangled by the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“Oh, I want,” he replied, eyes hot with lust. “But I can wait. I find that I rather like the anticipation. It makes the reward that much sweeter, wouldn’t you agree?”

She nodded mutely, accepting the hand he offered her. They stepped back onto the street, for all the world looking like a couple who had not just been engaged in a quick finger-fucking in a dark alley.

Draco leaned down to kiss her as they arrived at the apparition point, arms wrapped tightly around one another as they disapparated to Diagon Alley.

*****

The bar hosting Harry’s birthday celebration was a new wizarding establishment that featured one of the best inventions the muggle world had to offer: a karaoke machine.

The group of friends gathered in a large booth, looking on in amusement as Seamus Finnegan took the stage to sing “Poker Face,” his thick Irish accent and impassioned dance moves sending them into fits of laughter. When he finished, they all leapt to their feet, clapping and cheering, and he graced them with a low bow.

“I’m not convinced that Lady Gaga isn’t a witch,” Theo was saying as he and Draco returned to their booth with a bottle of firewhiskey and several shot glasses. “She must be a squib, at the very least.”

He expertly poured ten shots, sliding them across the table to each of his friends. Lifting his own glass in the air, he toasted Harry, then knocked back his shot.

While everyone at the table joined in the toast, only Val, Draco, Hermione, and Ron drank their shots.

Daphne leaned into Harry, whispering, “It’s your birthday, you should have a drink.”

He shook his head, kissing her upturned lips. “No, I’m doing this with you. If you can’t drink, then neither can I.”

Pansy practically knocked Neville over as she leaned around him, eyes wide. “Why can’t you drink, Daphne Potter?”

“Why do you think, Pansy Longbottom?” Daphne returned, grinning at her friend.

Pansy’s shriek really should have broken all the glasses at their table; it was that high-pitched.

“Oh my gods, I can’t believe this is happening again!” she screamed, jostling her husband anew as she grabbed Daphne’s hand. “I’m pregnant, too—due around Christmas!”

“Pansy!” Daphne exclaimed, laughing happily. “I’m due around Christmas, too!”

“Are you not drinking either, then?” Draco asked Neville, gesturing for him to hand over his shot glass.

Neville smiled at Pansy, rubbing his fingers lightly over her back. “No, mate. Not a huge sacrifice, as I don’t drink nearly as much as some.” Here he glanced at Theo, who gave him an exaggerated look of affront. “But she’s having to sacrifice a lot, so I reckon this is the least I could do.”

Ron nodded wisely, reaching over to take the still-full shot glass resting in front of his wife. “I remember doing that with the first two. By number three, you need the bloody alcohol,” he said, tossing the drink back with a wink.

The table was silent for a moment, then they all started talking at once.

“Number three?!”

“Luna, are you—?”

“You’re going to be officially outnumbered!”

“We’re also due around Christmas.”

“Bloody hell, what was in the water three months ago?”

They froze, realizing exactly what had been in the water—Harry and Daphne’s wedding, the love and passion in the air serving as a natural aphrodisiac.

Luna smiled, wrapping her fingers around Ron’s bicep and kissing his jaw. “That’s definitely when it happened for us. Molly and Arthur took the children, so Ron was able to absolutely rail me in one of your spare bedrooms,” she said to Harry and Daphne, who both looked very unsure as to what their reaction to that information should be. “We normally have to be quiet so we don’t wake up the children, but that night I could be as loud as I wanted. And _I wanted,_ ” she added, giving Ron a look that had him shifting in his seat.

“Right, well that was too much information,” Theo said cheerfully, stealing both Daphne and Harry’s shot glasses and draining them in quick succession. “I think it’s time to sing some muggle songs.”

Val went first, tossing her hair and shimmying across the small stage as she sang a Beyonce song, Theo proudly cheering her on. 

Luna and Neville went next, squabbling briefly about song choice before singing a lovely duet of a popular Coldplay song. When Luna returned to the table, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, Ron pulled her onto his lap and proceeded to snog her silly. 

Not to be outdone, Pansy leapt on Neville as he slid back into the booth, straddling his lap and pushing her breasts up toward his face. He flushed pink, but held her gaze as he pressed a slow kiss to each of the creamy swells rising above her low-cut top. Her red lips parted and she shifted against him, a soft whine coming from the back of her throat.

“Keep it in your pants, Pans,” Draco drawled, throwing back another shot of firewhiskey. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, silently commiserating their bad luck at being stuck between two couples who were currently just a few layers of clothing away from fornicating in the middle of a bar. 

They were saved a moment later when Harry and Daphne returned to the booth after singing “Hey Ya.” Quite a few male jaws had hit the floor when Daphne had—as the song suggested—shaken it like a Polaroid picture. Of course, she had no idea what a Polaroid picture was, so her interpretive dance mostly consisted of shaking her lovely arse and rubbing up against her husband, who looked extremely smug at having the prettiest witch in the bar grinding her crotch against his thigh.

“Shove over, mate,” Harry said to Ron, tapping his arm. Ron came up for air, looking a bit shell-shocked. He set Luna on her feet, standing quickly behind her and mumbling something about needing the loo. When Luna made to sit back down after Harry and Daphne, Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him toward the back of the bar.

“Well, then,” Harry remarked, causing them all to snicker.

A little while, one very scandalized Theo— _Someone scourgify my eyes right this instant or I won’t ever be able to unsee the image of Luna’s legs hooked around Ron’s freckled arse. Don’t they know how LOCKS work?_ —and quite a few shots later, Draco had finally been convinced to take a turn at karaoke. Ironically enough, it was Harry who had done the convincing, as he had agreed to sing with a rather drunk Draco.

They stood swaying, arms looped around each others’ shoulders, sharing a microphone as they sang “Yellow Submarine.” At the end of the song, Draco leaned into the microphone, voice so loud that feedback squealed as he shouted, “I love Hermione Granger!”

Harry guided him back to the table, dropping him next to Hermione and pulling Daphne to her feet to dance to Theo’s surprisingly good version of “SexyBack,” complete with appropriately-timed pelvic thrusts. Ron and Luna were still absent, and Neville and Pansy had left long ago, attached at both the mouth and groin.

This left Hermione alone in the booth with her drunk husband, who was currently making moon eyes at her. He leaned his elbow on the table, attempting to drop his chin into his hand but missing twice before making contact. 

“Hi,” he said in what he thought was probably a very sexy voice, but really was just quite sleepy and adorable.

“Hi,” she returned, pushing his blonde locks back off his forehead, smiling as he closed his eyes in bliss and leaned into her touch.

“You are so wonderful,” he said, eyes still closed.

“So are you,” she replied, pulling him to her so he could rest his head on her shoulder. He snuggled into her, strong arms wrapping around her waist and lips lifting to gently brush against the skin behind her ear. He didn’t kiss her, didn’t run his tongue along her skin, didn’t do anything other than touch her, but that touch set her entire body on fire.

“So is our baby,” Draco murmured against her skin. “Our Leo. He is the most amazing thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. And you’re his mum,” he added, sounding on the verge of tears. Since becoming a father, Draco was often a weepy drunk. “I’m his dad and you’re his mum.”

“I know, darling,” she replied, stroking his hair. “I love him, too.”

He was silent for a moment, and she thought he might be asleep, when he suddenly said, “I’d like to have another.”

She stilled, heart beginning to beat faster in her chest. It was something they’d chatted about often; as two only children, they knew they wanted Leo to have brothers and sisters. “Now?” she asked quietly.

“Right now, if I have anything to say about it,” he growled, and now he was kissing her neck, working his way up to her lips, pulling her to him to lick into her mouth like it was an ice cream cone, cradling her face tenderly between his hands.

Dimly, she heard another karaoke song begin, but she was too focused on kissing her husband to care. They may have kissed for hours before breaking apart, eyes glazed and breathing ragged.

Their friends were gone. They had probably said goodbye, but the pair had been too focused on one another to notice. 

“Ready to go home, wife?” Draco asked quietly.

She nodded, then took his hand and followed him to the apparition point. Minutes later, they were home. Hours later, they collapsed together into the soft sheets of their bed, sweaty and exhausted. Weeks later, Hermione went to a Healer for a pregnancy diagnostic charm after noticing that her sense of smell had become unnaturally sensitive. 

And that was how Hermione and Draco found out they were going to be parents. Again.

*****

In the months since her sister’s wedding, Astoria had become a new woman. She’d been hired to sing background vocals for _the_ Celestina Warbeck. She’d taken all of Alfie’s things from her flat and chucked them straight into the bin. And she had been on several dates with Blaise Zabini. 

They started out casually, slowly rebuilding the trust that she had shattered when she had snuck out of his bed after hours of the most intense sex she’d ever had. They went to cafes and pubs for coffee or lunch, working their way up to dinners and drinks. 

Blaise told her he'd recently been transferred back to Gringotts’ main branch in Diagon, so he was here to stay. He wouldn’t be leaving to go back to France. His presence in her life had become steady and dependable, making her feel safe instead of skittish. 

But they had yet to kiss. Hadn’t even touched more than brief hugs of greeting and farewell. And Astoria was in such a state over him that she felt like she was a teenager at Hogwarts again, masturbating furiously every night in order for sleep to find her. 

Which was why she had big plans for tonight. 

Blaise had invited her to be his date to the Gringotts Annual Midsummer Ball, and she was determined that not only would he kiss her, he would make it so that she could finally give her vibrator a nice retirement. Poor old boy deserved a break.

Wanting to make sure she looked her best, she had naturally enlisted the help of her sister and Pansy. They arrived at her London flat around tea time.

After trying on several different options, they all agreed that a long, form-fitting dress of emerald green satin with a high slit up one leg was perfect for a date between two Slytherins.

“Is it too low-cut, though?” Astoria asked hesitantly, tugging at the neckline and silently cursing the fact that she didn’t have more to fill it out.

“Hang on Astoria, is it your goal to get fucked tonight or not?” Pansy drawled, pinning her down with a predatory green gaze. 

“Well, yes—” Astoria began, but Pansy cut her off. 

“Then no, it’s not too low-cut. I can _just_ see the tops of your perky little tits, and Blaise will be able to see even more, the tall wanker. Trust me, he won’t be able to take his eyes off of them. Unless he’s too busy staring at your arse, that is,” she added, turning Astoria to admire said arse in the mirror.

Daphne took pity on her sister, gesturing for her to sit and put on a pair of sky high strappy heels. 

“Right, now let’s talk about your knickers,” Pansy said, a devilish look in her eyes.

“What’s wrong with my knickers?”

“You’re wearing them,” Pansy said, extending her hand and beckoning to Astoria. “Give them to me.”

Astoria’s eyes shot to Daphne, who just shrugged in agreement with Pansy.

Sighing, Astoria shimmied her knickers down her legs, kicking them at Pansy with one foot.

“Much better,” Pansy confirmed.

Soon it was time for them to leave, and Astoria gave both women grateful hugs as they bid her farewell, wishing her good luck and multiple orgasms.

Astoria checked her makeup in the small mirror by the door of her flat, freshening her lipstick charm that would prevent the color from smearing. 

She was adjusting the neckline of the dress one more time when a soft knock came at the door. She took a deep breath, pulling it open to find a very tall, very handsome, very fidgety Blaise standing there. He wore all black; black jacket, black trousers, black shirt, black tie. 

When he saw her, he blinked. And blinked again. Then blinked once more.

“Hi, Blaise,” she said, feeling a little shy about his total lack of reaction.

“Right,” he managed in a hoarse voice, staring at a spot just above her head. “Hello. Ready?” He offered her his arm.

“Um, yes?” she responded, taking his arm and walking to the apparition point with him. When they reached the door of her building, he gestured for her to go ahead of him, placing his hand low on her back as he exited behind her. Once outside, she turned back to face him, only to catch him staring at her arse. Feeling her gaze on him, he tore his eyes away and looked at the ground.

She could almost hear Pansy’s voice drawling, _“Told you so,”_ inside her head.

“Here we are,” he said, holding out his hand for hers. She took it, sliding her fingers in between his and looking up into his eyes. He stared at her for several long moments before visibly shaking himself, quickly disapparating them to their destination.

The ball began with a five-course meal. Blaise and Astoria were seated with several of Blaise’s new co-workers, including Percy Weasley and his wife, the former Katie Bell. She chatted easily with the other couple, discovering that they had many common interests. By the end of the meal, Astoria felt so fond of them that she promised Percy she would get an autographed picture of Celestina Warbeck to him by Christmas, a gift which he assured her would make him his mother’s favorite son. But while Blaise smiled and chuckled at all the right spots in the conversation, he seemed removed, withdrawn, different than the charismatic man she was used to.

The dancing started soon after the dessert plates were magically cleared from the tables, with the head Gringotts wizards leading their husbands and wives out onto the floor. A few minutes later more people joined in, and Blaise inclined his head at Astoria, offering her his hand once again.

They stayed toward the edge of the crowded dance floor, swaying gently to the slow song playing over the floating speakers. Blaise held one of her hands in his, his other hand resting lightly against her waist. She was frustrated by their lack of closeness; she felt like she was at Hogwarts again, with McGonagall breathing down her neck if she even so much as thought about snogging a boy in a broom closet, let alone allowing him to stand closer than an arm-length’s apart at a school dance.

She sighed, not even bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Something wrong?” Blaise asked pleasantly, gaze still fixed above her head.

Feeling their carefully rebuilt relationship start to fracture along with her patience, she sniffed. “Are you talking to me? You haven’t even looked at me for most of the night, so I can’t be sure.”

Dark eyes dropped to hers, burning with intensity for a moment before shuttering once more. 

“Also, I am not your grandmother,” she continued, frustrated anew at his behavior. “You can hold me a little tighter.” She pulled her hand from his, lacing her fingers together behind his head and stepping closer to him, although still not as close as she wanted. His now-free hand hovered strangely in the air, as if he had either forgotten it was there or truly didn’t know what to do with it now. Finally, it dropped to rest lightly against the other side of her waist.

His gaze continued to travel over the people dancing, the crystal chandeliers sparkling, the champagne fountain bubbling. His eyes were distant, far away.

Why was he being like this? Why had he asked her here if he was just going to keep her at arm’s length all night? 

She stewed silently for a few moments, hands clenching the fabric of his jacket, before giving in to her temper.

“Blaise,” she said in a stern voice, drawing his blank eyes back down to her face. “What is going on with you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked politely.

She let out a frustrated growl, sliding her hands down his chest to grasp his lapels and give him a shake. “Why are you acting like this? Why are you being so distant?”

“Well,” he replied, as if he were chatting about the weather. “I know you’re not ready or willing to be intimate again just yet. So I’ve been Occluding all night so as not to make you uncomfortable.”

Her jaw dropped open in shock, followed in quick succession by a bark of laughter and a stomp to the insole of his dragonhide shoe.

His eyes flickered.

“Before you just decide that you _know_ things about me, you might want to try—I don’t know—fucking talking to me, you prat,” she said, torn between amusement and anger. Here she was, doing everything short of wearing a big sign that said “Do Me!” and he thought—no, “knew”—that she didn’t want to be _intimate_ again yet. “Stop Occluding, Blaise,” she demanded with a hiss.

His face changed in an instant. Gone was the blank stare, the lack of expression. In its place was yearning, lust, _need_. 

“Are you ready to—” he began, and she interrupted him by pressing her body right up against his, breasts rubbing the soft fabric of his shirt.

“I’ve been ready,” she responded. His hands flexed against her, grabbing her hips and dragging her lower body flush with his as well. Due to their height difference, it was more like his lower body flush with her stomach, but— _oh_ —this position gave her a new perspective on his feelings about her. About her in this dress. About her in this dress in his arms.

“Why didn’t you say?” he asked hoarsely, beard tickling the sensitive skin of her neck as he dropped his head to speak quietly in her ear, his tongue darting out to trace its delicate shell and prompt a full-body shiver from her.

“I didn’t know I needed to,” she whispered back, sliding her hands down his chest and under his suit jacket, tracing the firm muscles of his back.

His hands slid over her body, slipping easily over the satin to tease the top of her arse. “Oh my gods, this dress,” he groaned. “I want to tear it off of you and fuck you with your shoes on.”

Astoria checked to make sure she wasn’t drooling. “Well then,” she said, aiming for seductive but landing somewhere closer to desperate. “Take me back to your flat.”

They were gone before the song was over.

They landed in the middle of Blaise’s kitchen, still wrapped around each other as though dancing.

He dropped his head, bumping her nose gently with his as their mouths chased one another, savoring the last bit of anticipation before connecting.

Yes, Blaise had always seemed electrically charged, and this was never more apparent than when Astoria kissed him. She felt it crackle through her body as they kissed, slow and drugging to begin with but steadily _more_ —more hands, more tongue, more contact between their straining bodies.

He lifted her easily, depositing her on the kitchen counter so their faces were level before claiming her mouth again. She moaned into his mouth, spreading her legs and pulling him even closer to her, enthusiastically returning his kiss as though her life depended on it.

His fingers—always moving, never still—roamed restlessly up and down her back, dropping to grip her arse as she let out a particularly filthy moan. He tore his mouth from hers, eyes burning as his fingers dug into her flesh. “Astoria,” he croaked, “are you not wearing any knickers?”

She grabbed one of his hands, pulling it underneath the slit of her dress to rest against her thigh. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

He shuddered, but dutifully slid his hand up her thigh. When he reached her cunt, he groaned, another uncontrollable shudder running over his tall frame. “Oh fuck, Astoria. Fuck, you’re so wet,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I want to feel you, too,” she panted back at him, tearing at the front of his trousers and shivering with pleasure to find out that like her, Blaise was not wearing anything underneath them. She stroked the velvety skin of his cock, loving the sounds he made in the back of his throat.

He thrust against her hand, continuing to use his fingers to tickle and tease her slit before sliding one inside her body. A second, then a third quickly followed the first, filling her up and making her gasp in pleasure. His thumb soon joined the party, firmly rubbing her clit until she was choking out unintelligible sounds, pressing her face into his chest and biting down on his collarbone as she came.

Instead of taking the edge off her desire, her orgasm made her feel even wilder than before. She removed her hand from his cock to grasp the front of his shirt, tearing it open with a strength she didn’t know she had, pushing it off his shoulders and thrilling in the sound of clothing hitting the floor. 

She leaned into his chest, licking and sucking across muscles that quivered and jumped under her touch. When she sucked hard on one of his nipples, he moaned, withdrawing his fingers from inside her and pushing her legs even wider. She heard the tell-tale sound of ripping fabric, but could not have cared less as he stepped in closer to her, sliding both hands up her legs and gripping her bare arse cheeks in both hands.

Then his mouth was ravaging hers once more, electricity jumping and sizzling between them. She felt the thickness of his cock brushing against her inner thigh and she squirmed, trying to get closer to him. 

She hooked her toes into the waistband of his trousers, sending them to the floor with a push. Using his broad shoulders for leverage, she writhed against him, feeling her eyes roll back in her head as she finally managed to make contact between her slippery wetness and his straining cock. 

He gasped against her mouth, then resumed their kiss, pulling her lower body flush against his and giving her the friction she so desperately needed. She tangled her hands in his thick black hair, pulling his face away from hers only long enough to rasp, “I need you inside me,” before opening her mouth to him once more. 

He didn’t need to be told twice. Releasing his grip on her arse—she’d probably have bruises tomorrow, she thought deliriously—he hooked his arms underneath her knees, lifting her legs up and apart as she felt the head of his cock slip inside of her.

She rolled her hips and he grunted, jerking his own hips against her and sinking inside her body another inch. He continued moving, grinding, allowing her body time to adjust to his size as his cock slowly disappeared into her wet heat. When he bottomed out inside of her she broke their kiss to gasp, throwing her head back and pulling at his hair, feeling so unbelievably, wonderfully full that she thought she might die. 

And that was before he started to move. He built the pace slowly, retreating until just the tip of his cock was left inside of her before pushing slowly back in, swiveling his hips with each thrust. 

He gradually began to move faster, releasing a pained “Oh, oh, oh,” with each snap of his hips, matched by her high-pitched whimpers as she could do no more than hold on tightly to his shoulders as he fucked her. 

“Blaise,” she whined, “oh gods, oh fuck—your cock. I missed your cock so much.”

Her words spurred him to new heights, and he used his considerable strength to lift her small body off the countertop, standing in the middle of the kitchen floor as he fucked up into her, making her wail so loudly she was sure everyone in his building could hear. 

“I’m gonna come,” she cried, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes at the sensations coursing through her body. She heard him growl and somehow increase the pace even more, until the electric currents running through her body exploded, showering sparks through her nervous system and short-circuiting her brain. 

Before she could recover, Blaise was pulling out of her, setting her on her feet and steadying her when she wobbled, legs currently the consistency of marmalade. 

He grasped the front of her dress with both hands, tearing it down the middle and letting it drop to the floor behind her. She felt a new surge of desire at his complete loss of control, which only increased when he lifted her over one shoulder, striding quickly down the hall to his bedroom, still-erect cock bobbing in front of him. 

He dropped her on the bed, catching her feet—still wearing the sky-high heels, as requested, and flipping her onto her stomach. Wordlessly, he grasped her hips in his large hands, pulling her back toward him so her arse was in the air, knees spread wide against his mattress. 

Astoria felt his tongue lap at her folds and cried out, shaking at the unexpected onslaught of sensation. He gave her three, four, five broad licks of his tongue before she felt his cock at her entrance again. She wiggled her arse in approval, and he rewarded her with a slow, thorough fucking that had her sobbing into the mattress. 

Soon she felt her inner walls begin to flutter anew around his cock, wringing a hoarse shout from his throat as her cunt milked him. They exploded one after another, riding out the waves of their orgasms, continuing to thrust against each other until both were spent and exhausted.

They fell onto his bed, panting. He reached a hand—not fidgeting with electricity, but trembling with aftershocks—out to brush her hair out of her face, staring at her in awe. She moved closer to him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and moving to lay within the circle of his arms when he shifted to make room for her.

They lay in silence for a moment, until she thought he may have fallen asleep. Then his voice spoke from just above her head, quiet but _so_ sincere.

“Please don’t leave. I couldn’t bear it.”

Her heart squeezed. “You want me to stay the night?” she asked softly.

“I do.”

So she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this long, hot chapter. I literally had to take a break from writing it during that Blaise and Astoria scene and take a cold shower. ;)
> 
> And, yes, I know that Gringotts is run by goblins who probably have no interest in putting on balls for their employees, but work with me here.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Daphne hear their baby's heartbeat for the first time.
> 
> Theo and Val hold their wedding at Nott Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the penultimate chapter! As always, thank you for reading.
> 
> If you're enjoying this story, please take a moment to leave a comment or kudos. And the BEST thing you could do is recommend this series to others!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/persephonestone) and [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/persephonestone2/).

The week after Harry’s thirtieth birthday, he joined Daphne at her Healer’s appointment to hear their baby’s heartbeat for the first time. They sat in the waiting area with other nervous soon-to-be parents, watching magical portraits of cherubic infants coo and hiccup at them from the walls.

Daphne clutched Harry’s hand, leg jiggling in anticipation. He sent her a reassuring smile, cupping her cheek with his free hand and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You okay?” he inquired softly.

She nodded, biting her lip. “I’m just really anxious. It still doesn’t seem real.”

“Potter, Daphne,” a bored-looking witch droned from the doorway of the waiting area, and Daphne and Harry stood, his hand on her lower back as they followed the witch down a long hallway and into a room. 

“Change into this gown,” the witch said, tossing Daphne a light green bundle of fabric. Daphne caught it reflexively, narrowly escaping being hit in the face.

Harry frowned at the witch as she left the room. “Guess she doesn’t know who I am,” he remarked with a shrug. Daphne smacked him with the gown.

A few minutes later, the door opened again and a middle-aged Indian witch strode into the room. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. I am Healer Sandhu. How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” admitted Daphne. 

“Totally normal,” Healer Sandhu replied, waving her wand at the machines in the corner to power them on. “Did you need a recommendation for a prenatal potion, or have you found one you like?”

“I’ve been taking one that my friends recommended,” Daphne said, and Healer Sandhu gave her an approving nod.

Gesturing for Daphne to sit back against the propped up exam table, Healer Sandhu gently covered her legs with a blanket, then lifted the hospital gown up to expose the skin of her belly. Murmuring a diagnostic spell, the healer slowly moved her wand over Daphne’s abdomen, rotating it this way and that until she found what she was looking for. She spoke another incantation and then the fast, wave-like sound of their baby’s heartbeat filled the room.

Tears gathered in Daphne’s eyes and she squeezed Harry’s hands between hers, finally allowing herself to believe what her heart and body were telling her: she was going to be a mother. She and Harry had created new life together, were going to be parents, had given sweet James a little brother or sister.

Harry was teary-eyed too, pressing their clasped hands to his lips, laughing at the sound of his baby’s heart beating.

Healer Sandhu smiled at them, continuing to move the wand over Daphne as she spoke. “Nice, strong heartbeat we have there. And—” she broke off, frowning, silencing the room.

Daphne’s heart dropped. “Is something wrong?”

Healer Sandhu held up one finger, continuing to listen carefully as she swept the wand over Daphne’s stomach again, furrowing her brow. 

“Healer Sandhu—,” Harry began, but stopped at the sight of her face breaking into a smile.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to worry you,” Healer Sandhu finally said, “I just needed to be sure.”

“Sure of what?” Daphne asked, feeling light-headed.

The healer repeated the sound-amplification charm and their baby’s heartbeat filled the room once more. But now there was a different sound, almost like an echo of the first. Healer Sandhu smiled at them. 

“Congrats, mum and dad,” she said, “ _Both_ of your babies have strong heartbeats.”

Later that night, the bored nurse from Healer Sandhu’s office greatly enjoyed telling all her friends at the pub that she had been the one to revive _the_ Harry Potter when he had fainted in her exam room.

*****

On the 28th of August, everyone gathered at Nott Manor for the wedding of Theo and Val. In the year since they had moved in together, the ancient manse had undergone extensive reconstruction and renovation under the careful supervision of Val. 

Gone were the dark paneled walls, the heavy tapestries and curtains that smothered all light, the hateful paintings that would scream at Theo and Val as they passed, the artifacts of dark magic that Theo’s ancestors had collected over generations. In their place was light. Air. Color. Life. 

The entrance hall, once a forbidding, grandiose section of the ancient manor designed to intimidate guests, was now a wonderfully inviting space, especially on this, their wedding day. Thousands of peonies, roses, hydrangeas, and lilacs wrapped around the handrails of the grand staircase, perfuming the air and making their wedding guests feel as if they had just stepped into a wonderland. 

Guests were then led to the back of the manor, where more flowers burst from urns lining the dramatic back steps that led down into the gardens. A white tent with a gossamer roof was set up to host the ceremony and later the reception, offering everyone relief from the late summer heat while still providing a view of the truly spectacular grounds. 

Upstairs in the bridal suite, Val was allowing Gabriela, the oldest of her five older sisters, to twist her long black hair into a dramatic updo with a few flicks of her wand. Cristina, the sister closest in age to Val, put the finishing touches on Val’s makeup while Selena, who was somewhere in the middle, held out their mother’s diamond drop earrings for Val to put on. Their mother, Iliana, stood behind her daughters holding _her_ mother’s delicate lace veil, waiting to put the finishing touch on her baby girl’s wedding day preparations. 

Camila and Adriana, Val’s other two sisters, sat chatting and laughing with Val’s new English friends, whom they had all met when they had portkeyed in the week prior and decided that they liked immensely.

Adriana, who could have been—and in fact, used to be—a model for a popular line of high-end American wizarding clothes, was already comfortable enough with Pansy to be trading bedroom tips. 

“I didn’t think I’d like it, to be quite honest,” Pansy was saying in a hushed voice, “but the first time Neville stuck his finger in my bum when I was riding him on our dining room table, I came so hard that I blacked out.”

Hermione made a mental note to never accept another dinner invitation to Longbottom House. 

Luna, meanwhile, nodded enthusiastically. “It’s the same for blokes,” she said, taking advantage of the fact that there were no children present to do her own bit of oversharing. “It’s called stimulating the prostate. Sometimes when I go down on Ron I’ll do it, and he comes within seconds.”

Daphne met Hermione’s gaze across the small sitting area, sharing a look of horrified fondness at their friends’ conversation. 

The doors suddenly opened and Ginny tripped through, smoothing her dress and trying to restore a bit of order to her hair. Behind her, Hermione caught sight of Miles hurrying down the stairs, adjusting his trousers and straightening his jacket.

Hermione smirked—a habit she had definitely picked up from Draco—and lifted an eyebrow at Ginny, but said nothing. 

A moment later, a knock came at the door, with Theo’s voice following close behind it, sounding as if he was struggling with someone.

“Yes, no I know it’s supposed to be bad luck, but I don’t believe in that—argh!” he was saying, before being abruptly cut off.

“Theo?” Val asked, turning to look at the door. She stood, crossing the room and pausing with her hand against the wood frame. “Theo? What are you doing out there?”

A crack came from the other side of the door, along with a very loud, distinctly Draco shout of “Buggering fuck!” and then Theo’s voice was back at the door.

“Valentina!” he said, voice strained with exertion. “Please let me in.”

There was a chorus of “no’s” from inside the room, but Val held her hand up to silence them all. “What do you need, Theo?” she asked warily.

“I just want to give you something,” he said quietly. “I know it’s supposed to be bad luck to see each other before the ceremony, but I didn’t know a bit of good luck in my entire miserable life until I met you. So forgive me if I don’t believe that I could have anything but good luck from now on, as long as you’re with me.”

Val let out a shaky exhale, eyes bright with tears. “Don’t you make me cry and ruin my makeup, Theo,” she warned, but her voice was soft.

“You’re a witch,” he reminded her gently. “Use your magic and charm it so I can come in.”

She did just that, casting a quick charm before pulling the door open and opening her arms to him. He wrapped himself around her, burying his face in her neck and breathing deeply. 

The others watched the calming effect she had on him, the peace that came over his face as soon as he was able to touch her, and sighed. It was the stuff romance novels were made of.

Pulling away, he stepped back and truly looked at her for the first time that day. While she wasn’t dressed in her gown yet, she was wearing a silky white robe and had her hair and makeup done. He stared, transfixed, and then heaved a dramatic sigh. 

“Gods Val, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

She pulled his face down to hers, kissing him slowly, making everyone in the room exchange knowing glances. 

“You wanted to give me something?” she asked quietly, keeping his face near hers to press tiny kisses to the corners of his mouth.

“I did?” he asked stupidly. “Yes, I did. This.” He held out a box that he had been carrying in one hand. 

She took his free hand instead, leading him over to the vanity she’d been sitting behind, carefully opening the box and unwrapping the fabric that covered whatever was inside. Her eyes flew to his, and he nodded.

Her hands reached inside the box carefully, lifting out an understated tiara; one that was nonetheless dripping with diamonds. 

“It was my mother’s,” Theo said quietly. “You don’t have to wear it, but I thought I’d—”

“Of course I’ll wear it,” Val whispered. “Of course I will, my love.”

His gaze flew to hers, and then he was kissing her again, pulling her against him and running his hands over her body in a way that let them all know he had completely forgotten—or simply didn’t care—that most of her family was in the room.

A throat being cleared from the doorway brought Theo back to himself, and he turned to grin sheepishly at his best man, Draco, who had finally managed to get someone to release the full body bind curse Theo had hit him with.

“Sorry, mate,” Theo said.

Draco crossed to Hermione, dropping a kiss on her head as she reached up for his hand. “I’ll forgive you this time,” he replied. “But only because I know what it’s like to be desperately in love.” He smiled fondly down at his wife.

“Here, _mija,_ ” Iliana said to her daughter, taking control of the room as only a mother of six strong-willed girls truly could. She pulled her own wand from the pockets of her lavender dress, gesturing for Valentina to sit in front of the mirror once more. Then she carefully took the tiara from Val, placing it expertly on her daughter’s head and using a sticking charm to attach the veil.

“Now,” said Iliana, stepping back and turning to Theo. “Give me a hug, son,” she said warmly, opening her arms and wrapping Theo tightly in her embrace. When he pulled back, she allowed him to give Val one more kiss, then shooed him from the room so Val could get dressed.

Draco kissed Hermione goodbye and followed his oldest friend out the door. Pansy, Daphne, Luna, and Ginny also left, off to find their husbands and children. 

Hermione, Val’s matron of honor, remained with the rest of her sisters to help her dress. While she felt very honored to have been asked to play such an important role in Theo and Val’s day, she and Val had argued passionately when she had first been asked. 

“But you have so many sisters!” Hermione had said.

“Hermione, Theo and I wouldn’t even be together if it weren’t for you,” Val had responded. She listed her arguments off on her fingers. “You requested my help on your endangered magical species bill. I came to Britain. You let me use your flat. You sent Theo on a bogus errand. You invited me to your wedding. The first time I fucked Theo was in your backyard. We started dating. We fell in love. We’re getting married. You’re going to be my maid of honor, and that’s the end of the discussion.”

“Wait, you did _what?_ ” Draco had said, but Theo had just waved him off. 

So now Hermione had the distinct honor of holding Val’s hand while she stepped into her wedding dress, ensuring she didn’t lose her balance and fall. She carried Val’s enormous bouquet as they walked down several flights of stairs, careful not to step on the long train that trailed behind her friend. And she was the last one to be able to give Val, her dear friend who loved one of the best men she knew, a tight hug before turning and making her way down the back steps, up the aisle, and into her place of honor.

Her eyes met Draco’s, and his gaze swept over her body, hot with appreciation for the tight-fitting aubergine dress she wore, as well as the early pregnancy curves that filled it out even more than usual. 

The music changed, signalling that Val and her father had exited the manor and were making their way out to the gardens. Hermione turned, looking over the group gathered to watch the nuptials—made up in large part by Cortezes and Weasleys—to watch as the bride approached.

Val’s satin gown was deceptively simple; free of lace or pearls or any adornments, with a modest neckline, a wide skirt and a long train. It didn’t overshadow her beauty; it highlighted it. She glowed. Her tiara sparkled in the afternoon sunlight, and her delicate veil drifted gently behind her on the breeze. 

Hermione heard soft sniffles coming from her left, and glanced over to see Theo—snarky, pain-in-the-ass Theo—weeping openly as he watched Val walk down the aisle. 

She felt her own eyes sting with tears as he reached out his hand for her and she took it without hesitation, proudly stepping into her place beside him. 

The ceremony was fairly short, but the love between husband and wife was palpable. When Theo promised to wed her with the ring he placed on her finger, endow her with all his worldly goods, and worship her with his body, Hermione’s heart thumped at the intensity in his voice. When Val repeated his words, Hermione saw the shudder that wracked Theo’s body. 

She met Draco’s eyes, repeated the words to him in her mind, knew from the look on his face that he was just as affected by them as she was. 

Later, once the incantation to join their magic had been performed, they sealed their marriage with a kiss. Never one to do things halfway, Theo pulled Val into his arms, twisting them into a low dip as he kissed his bride. 

Cheers broke out as they were pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Nott, growing louder as they made their way out of the tent and back toward the manor, Theo’s arm tight around his wife’s waist. 

Draco offered Hermione his arm, leaning in to kiss her gently before they followed their friends. 

“Da!” came Leo’s voice from the rows of chairs, and they both waved at their son, who was sitting on Narcissa’s lap and munching happily on a cracker. “Muh!” he called after them as they passed, waving said cracker in the air. 

Back inside the manor after a few photographs, Hermione allowed Val’s sisters the honor of whisking her up the stairs to change into a different dress for the reception. They had to practically pull her away from Theo, whose lips were suctioned to her face. 

“She’ll be right back,” Cristina promised, teasing her new brother-in-law. 

“She’d better be,” Theo said, staring after Val in awe. She held his gaze the whole way up the stairs, relying on her sisters to make sure she didn’t trip and break her neck. 

*****

Guests milled about in the entrance hall while Theo’s house elves set up for the reception outside, transforming the rows of chairs and ceremony set-up to tables that dripped with flowers and fairy lights, gold-edged plates and silverware gleaming in the light of hundreds of floating candles. 

Floating trays of drinks and appetizers made their way around the entrance hall as the guests waited, until finally the back doors opened again and Theo’s head elf Franklin bowed low, inviting his master’s guests out to enjoy their evening. 

Theo grasped Franklin’s hand in gratitude, then turned at the audible gasps he heard coming from behind him. He froze, watching his wife making her way back downstairs, wearing a strapless ivory gown, its tulle skirts much better-suited for dancing with her husband. The inky waves of her hair cascaded around her shoulders, reminding him of the night they met, when she had leaned over him to check his head and he had been sure he was hallucinating. 

His breath caught in his throat when she beamed at him, hurrying down the last few steps and jumping into his waiting arms. 

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear. 

“I love you,” he whispered back, squeezing her tightly. 

Their reception was loud and boisterous; the only result one could possibly expect from two enormous wizarding families being thrown together into the same space. Theo, who had been so very alone for most of his life, enjoyed it immensely.

After dinner had been served and cleared, the dancing started. He pulled Val to him, kissing her deeply as they moved in perfect sync to the music of their first dance. He heard Draco whistling and Daphne cheering, but his attention didn’t stray from the woman in his arms. 

He danced with Iliana while Val danced with her father, Gabriel. He dutifully danced with all five of her sisters, laughing and whooping as they taught him some popular American dance moves. He even danced with some of his new nieces and nephews, teaching _them_ some of the dances he used to choreograph with Daphne. 

Finally, Val returned to his arms, and everything was right in the world. He looked down at her face, so beautiful that it made his heart stop, and felt himself on the verge of happy tears once more. Sensing his mood, she grasped his face in both her hands and gifted him with another slow, sensuous kiss. 

They cut their cake (with the cake knife that had been the catalyst to their relationship; a gift from Hermione), listened to toasts, and Val tossed her bouquet. Then she was pulling his lips down to hers once more, whispering in his ear that if he didn’t take her to their room and fuck her silly, she was going to scandalize all their guests by throwing him across the head table and riding his cock in front of everyone. 

She didn’t have to tell him twice. 

Taking her hand, they waved goodbye to all their guests, then turned and ran. 

They flew up the back garden steps, laughing as they tripped through the doors of the manor, and then Theo—not willing to wait a second longer to be alone with her—simply apparated them into their bedroom. 

She yanked his tie loose from his shirt collar, using her wand— _where had she been keeping it?_ —to quickly unbutton his shirt. She tossed the wand aside, reaching out to push open the flaps of his shirt and press a kiss to his skin, then shoving the shirt and jacket off his shoulders to pile on the floor. 

He unzipped the back of her dress, letting it fall, but then had to step back and sit down heavily on a bench near their bed at the sight of her lingerie. 

A strapless, sheer white bustier pushed her luscious breasts high, nipping in at her waist. Lacy white knickers—also sheer—teased him as she turned slowly, giving him a perfect view of the curvy cheeks of her arse peeking out from the bottoms.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Theo breathed, not able to say anything else. Not needing to, really. She knew what she did to him.

“Like what you see, baby?” she breathed, voice throaty and low. She ran her hands up her body, starting at her small waist and trailing up and over the swells of her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and smiling at Theo’s whimper. “Do you want me to take this off?” she asked him, hooking a finger in the front of the bustier and pulling it down until her nipples were just contained by the fabric.

“No. Yes. Fuck, I don’t know,” Theo whispered, eyes darting from her breasts to her face to her legs and then back to her breasts to start the cycle over again.

“Poor baby,” she said, straddling his legs and threading her fingers through his hair. “Let me take care of you, Theo. Let me make you feel good.”

“Uhhh,” Theo managed, groaning as Valentina sank down to seat herself fully in his lap, the damp heat of her cunt landing directly over his straining cock, their bodies separated only by the fabric of his trousers.

She rolled her hips against him, moving as sinuously as an eel in the water, pushing her breasts up toward his mouth and throwing her head back with a laugh when he buried his face in them.

His hands gripped her waist, flexing involuntarily against the fine boning of the bustier. Then he was capturing one of her nipples with his lips, sucking hard, lashing her skin with flicks of his tongue, causing her to cry out and the walls of her pussy to spasm in pre-orgasmic anticipation.

She quickly stood, wanting his show to last a little longer before they fucked each other into next week. 

“Take off your pants,” she said in a commanding voice, and he leapt to obey.

“Sit against the pillows,” she ordered, and he quickly climbed onto the bed, doing as she asked.

“Touch yourself,” she demanded, and immediately his hand fisted around his cock, stroking gently as his eyes burned into hers.

She reached back, slowly lowering the zipper of the bustier, holding it to the front of her body as she stepped up onto the bench, letting it go as she dropped to her knees to crawl up the length of the bed to her husband. Her breasts swayed with her movements, and Theo swallowed audibly.

When she was face to face with him, she moved in for a kiss...only to drop her head at the last minute and place teasing, light kisses down the length of his throat. She licked her way across his chest, then pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his stomach until he was writing in anticipation beneath her.

Batting his hand away, she massaged his thighs and sucked the head of his cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him until he sobbed her name. Then she relaxed her jaw and took him deep inside her mouth, sucking him with gusto.

“Oh gods Val, don’t stop. You suck my cock so good, take it so good,” he was stammering above her, hands fisted tightly in her hair and hips thrusting underneath her. When he came a moment later, he seemed surprised, like he had been so out of his mind that he hadn’t been paying attention to his body’s clues. She swallowed him down, knowing that their night was just beginning and that he would take good care of her, as well.

She crawled up the bed, kissing his lips gently as he stared at her, feeling like he’d been stupefied. 

She gave him a moment, smiling at him as she watched the fog clear from his expression, shivering in anticipation as it was replaced with fire. 

He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her to him and pressing her breasts to his chest as he devoured her mouth with his. His hands moved down her body to grip her arse, spreading her cheeks wide as she straddled him and moaned. 

His fingers slipped beneath the edge of her knickers, finding her soaking wet and ready for him. He groaned, hissing filthy whispers in her ear as he plunged two fingers inside of her. 

“You’re so wet for me, love. How’s that feel?” he asked, stroking deep within her, burying his fingers to the hilt inside her cunt. 

“ _So good,_ ” she sobbed, rocking her hips involuntarily. 

“Do you want to come on my fingers?” he growled, quickening his pace inside her. “Or on my face as I eat your pussy? Or on my cock as I fuck you?” 

Val wailed, pressing her face tightly into his neck as he felt her cunt start to clench around his fingers. 

“Maybe all three?” he said, and she cried out as she climaxed, a single tear trailing down her cheek at the force of her orgasm. 

Theo was relentless; rolling her onto her back, he pulled her knickers off and bent her knees so that her legs rested on his shoulders. He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, and then dove down to claim his prize. He worked her with his tongue and teeth; licking, sucking, nibbling, biting. He shifted her legs, pushing her thighs down until they were flat against the mattress, spreading her legs wide and opening her body to him. His hands reached up to knead and squeeze her breasts, pulling at her nipples and causing her back to arch off the bed during her second orgasm. 

“One more, Valentina,” he said gently, wiping his mouth before kissing her gently on each breast. He sat back against the pillows once more, lifting her up and over him to sink down on his once-more erect cock, using the new position to take advantage of one of his favorite activities—sucking his wife’s glorious tits. 

He allowed her to set the pace. She started out slow, eyes glazed in pleasure, building up to a rhythm that had her tits bouncing and arse jiggling with every meeting of their hips. Soft panting breaths escaped her lips, accompanied by the occasional moan that set his blood on fire. 

“I love you, Valentina,” he grunted against her skin, pistoning his hips under her and thrilling at how the volume of her moans increased. “You were made for me. You’re mine. Mine,” he growled. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she cried, staring deep into his eyes as she rolled her hips. “And you’re mine,” she added with a whimper, feeling another orgasm beginning. 

“Always,” he choked out, feeling tears prick his eyes as her pussy clenched around him. He continued thrusting, bringing his thumb to her clit and applying steady pressure that had her sobbing, climaxing anew, clawing at his back with her fingernails as she scrabbled for purchase in the intensity of her body’s reaction to him. 

He rolled her onto her back, still buried inside of her, and pounded into her, throwing his head back moments later and roaring out his own orgasm before collapsing on top of his wife. 

They lay there together for a long while, her fingertips stroking the warm skin of his back, his hands gently massaging her hips and thighs. When he finally moved off of her, she pulled his face back to hers for a slow, deep kiss that had his blood heating anew. 

“Give me a minute to recover,” she said, voice hoarse. “And then let’s do that again.”

They did just that—again and again. 

He took her in the bathtub, her back against his front as they both lay back against the edge, legs spread wide. 

She rode him to completion on the floor of their bedroom, not able to wait until they made it back to the bed. 

Then obviously, they needed to get clean again, so they moved to the shower. He marked the skin of her inner thighs with his love bites, then licked deep into her pussy, pulling her leg over his shoulder as she leaned back against the warm tiles.

When the frenzy of their mating finally slowed, they laid face to face in their bed, Theo thrusting deep inside Val as she kissed his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, his jaw. When they came it was slow, and sweet, but nonetheless intense.

Theo rolled off of her, laying his head on her soft, full breast and wrapping his arms around her waist. She pulled him tightly against her, hugging his shoulders protectively as she kissed the top of his head.

They lay like that until their heartbeats slowed and breathing calmed.

Theo’s voice broke the stillness. “Hey, Val?”

“Yeah, Theo?”

“That head injury was worth it.”

She laughed in the dark, thinking that as usual, he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you as excited as I am about the Potter babies?!
> 
> As I've said before, I was really nervous to write an original character, especially one who played such a big part of this series. But I have been overwhelmed by the reception she got from you, so wanted to give her and sweet Theo the wedding they deserved. If you're wondering how I pictured her tiara (which I'm assuming is a completely normal thing for an old, aristocratic wizarding family to have on hand), think Meghan Markle on her wedding day. 
> 
> Check back soon for chapter 5!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We come to the end (of the beginning) for these characters.
> 
> I'm not crying, you're crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this was late. I wanted to get it right. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for coming with me on this ride. I have loved reading every single comment (especially yours, riel, you poetic, noble land mermaid) and seeing how much you all love these characters, just as I do. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this series, please subscribe to it! That way you'll be notified when (not if, because you all know I’m coming back to play in this universe some more) new chapters post. Better yet, subscribe to ME so you can be notified when I post other things I write. I would love your continued support.
> 
> In the meantime, the best way to keep in touch is via [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/persephonestone). Ask me questions, read my drabbles, look at the pretty things I reblog as I try to figure that place out. It makes me feel OLD AS HELL, so please come keep me young.

In September, Hermione turned thirty-one. Draco surprised her by arranging a portkey to Paris for the day. They ate a picnic lunch in the Champ de Mars, laughing as Leo chased after birds— _Burs, Da! Burs!_ —and then promptly fell asleep on their blanket in the shade. Draco took advantage of the bit of adult alone time by stretching out on the blanket beside his wife and snogging her stupid. They spent the night in the fanciest hotel in the wizarding section of Paris, ordering room service, wearing the hotel’s complimentary robes, and snuggling into bed with Leo at bedtime. Long after Leo drifted off Draco and Hermione lay awake, staring into each others’ eyes as Draco’s fingers traced her belly.

Theo and Val enjoyed a long honeymoon in Bali. They spent their days lying on white sandy beaches, eating delicious food, and exploring the jungles with their wizarding guides. They spent their nights wrapped up in each other, trying as many different positions as they could from the Kama Sutra—a wedding gift from Pansy. They returned to England at the end of the month, tanned and sore and _very_ familiar with one another.

Harry and Daphne spent September converting a room in their home into a nursery. They picked out matching cribs for their twins and painted the room a pale shade of mint green. Harry surprised Daphne by framing copies of her artwork from the H.D. Rue books for the nursery walls. He still had a hard time believing that Draco was the author of the wildly popular series, but Daphne’s artistic talents were undeniable. She clung to him, weeping, when she walked into her babies’ nursery and saw her own work hanging on the walls. James made his own contribution to his younger siblings’ room, picking out a special stuffed creature for each baby—a hippogriff for one and a dragon for the other.

Neville and Pansy were also preparing for their new family member. They had decided to find out the sex of their baby this time around, and immediately began brainstorming floral names once more when they found out they’d be having another girl. It was only fitting that all the women in the Longbottom family were named in honor of what their father loved most: their mother. 

And also flowers. 

When they decided on the name Magnolia—Maggie, for short—Neville left a magnolia blossom on Pansy’s pillow every morning, along with a handwritten note. _I love you,_ one read. _Thank you for being a wonderful mother to our girls,_ said another. _When I get home tonight, be wearing the knickers I like. You know the ones,_ read one that made Pansy blush at the thought of what they’d done the last time she wore them. 

She did Neville one better by asking Hermione to watch Hazel for a few hours. When her husband came in through the floo that evening, he found a note from his wife asking him to meet her in his office. He ran down the hall in anticipation, loosening his tie as he went, skidding through the door to find his beautiful and very pregnant wife laid out across his desk, wearing black thigh-high stockings, black spiked heels, and nothing else. He fucked her from behind, her palms pressed flat on the desk, his hands gripping her hips for leverage. When Neville went to fetch Hazel later that evening, Draco eyed the love bites on his neck and smirked at him.

*****

In October and November, Ron and Luna scandalized Theo on three different occasions. First, he walked in on them in one of Harry and Daphne’s bathrooms, Luna sitting propped on the counter with her legs spread wide and her hands buried in her husband’s thick ginger hair while Ron kneeled before her, enthusiastically licking her cunt. 

Next, he found them in his own garden, when he heard a strange noise after a luncheon that he and Val were hosting and went to investigate. Rather than finding a stray animal, he found Luna on all fours, Ron’s hands fisted into her hair as he fucked her from behind. 

And finally, when he was tasked to take something upstairs to his godson’s room at Malfoy Hall—the name Hermione had finally agreed to for their London home, after much arguing with Draco about _why_ a house needed a name in the first place—he happened to hear a noise coming from a nearby empty room. Thinking it may be Hades or Zeus stuck inside with no way out, he opened the door—and came face to face with Luna, top undone and naked from the waist down, swollen breasts jiggling as she bounced on Ron’s cock and sucked his fingers into her mouth. Ron lay flat on his back, using the hand that wasn’t currently knuckle-deep in his wife’s mouth to massage her clit.

“I swear, I think they’re doing it on purpose,” Theo said to Val as she brushed her teeth that night, leaning back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut. “I am going to need so much therapy,” he grumbled.

Val rinsed her mouth, laughing. “Yeah, _that’s_ why you need therapy,” she teased, tossing a towel at his head, laughing harder when he let it hit him in the face and then pouted at her. 

“I think it’s sweet,” she said after a moment, pulling a brush slowly through her hair, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. “To still have so much love and passion for each other after several years of marriage and three babies…” she trailed off. “Do you think it’ll be like that for us?” she asked, turning to face him. 

Something in her face made him stand a little straighter, crossing the room to her and placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. Everyone knew Val as confident and brave, and she was, but Theo also had the privilege of seeing her at her most vulnerable. “Like what, Val?”

“Will you still want me that much after a few children?” Her voice was small, uncertain.

His first instinct was to laugh, because he had never heard anything more ridiculous, but instead he tilted her chin up, meeting her hesitant gaze before kissing her softly. “I will want you that much until the day I die. Probably even after that,” he said against her lips.

She smiled back at him, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “Well, that’s good to know. Because I have something to tell you.” Now she was grinning, moving in to whisper into his ear. “You’re going to be a daddy.”

His hands clenched tightly on her shoulders, his body temporarily paralyzed with shock. Val stepped away from him, turning and disappearing into their bedroom, returning a moment later to hand him a piece of parchment from a Healer’s office. There were lots of official-looking numbers and medical terms, but all that mattered was what a Healer had written across the top: _NOTT, VALENTINA — age 28 — pregnancy CONFIRMED — approximate due date: 30 June 2011._

Theo clasped Val tightly in his arms, sinking to the floor of the bathroom with her as he covered her face with kisses, tears leaking out of his eyes at the thought of what a lucky bastard he was. 

His mother had died when he was just a boy. His father had been an abusive, Death Eater arsehole. He had never really had many close friends—other than Draco—until after the program. But now he had a wife, and soon he would have a child, and he would do everything in his power, every day of his life to make sure he was worthy of them.

*****

November brought Astoria a surprise from Blaise, who had a new client at Gringotts that worked for a wizarding record label. Blaise had mentioned that his girlfriend was a talented singer, and the client had offered to listen to some of Astoria’s original songs. 

“Blaise!” she had cried, her voice a mix of excitement and sheer terror. “I don’t have any recorded!”

He flashed her a mischievous smile, picking up her bag and gesturing toward the floo. “I know. That’s why I took the liberty of renting out a room in a recording studio this afternoon. Already set up the floo connection.”

A few hours later, Astoria had recorded three of her songs, accompanied only by herself on the piano. Blaise sent the demo off with an owl when they returned to her flat, then spent the next hour enjoying the thanks Astoria gave him as she tackled him to the floor and made his toes curl in pleasure.

They heard back from Blaise’s client the following morning, requesting a meeting with Astoria to discuss signing a three-record deal with his label. Blaise and Astoria celebrated that night with dinner and dancing, then celebrated even more after apparating home.

*****

In December, Malfoy Hall hosted an early Christmas celebration for everyone, as Pansy, Daphne, and Luna’s due dates were so close to the actual holiday. As the children played with Leo’s toys on the large, plush rug in the living room, the women all gathered in front of the enormous Christmas tree, insisting on taking a group picture when they were all pregnant. Daphne moaned a bit at how large she was, but everyone protested that she was as beautiful as Aphrodite, the goddess of love and fertility.

When Harry took her home that night, he drew her a warm bath. He helped her remove her clothing, pressing gentle kisses to each bit of exposed skin until she was naked. Then he steadied her as she stepped into the large sunken tub, rubbing her lower back where it ached from the strain of carrying not one, but two babies inside her body.

“Oh!” she gasped, grabbing his hand and pulling it to her belly. He felt nothing for a moment, then the small but distinctive kick of a tiny foot came against his palm.

“Hello, baby” he murmured, pressing gently against her skin. The foot kicked again. “Be nice to your mummy.”

Daphne smiled at him, then gasped once more and pulled his hand to the side of her belly, where their other baby demanded its parents’ attention. 

“Hello to you, too, my love,” Harry laughed. He looked up at Daphne to find her watching him with a dreamy smile on her face, then laughed as she pulled his face down to hers for a most arousing kiss. 

It was hard for them to make love easily due to the advanced stage of Daphne’s pregnancy, but they lay in bed later, on their sides, Harry pressed tightly against Daphne’s back. He pulled her leg up and back toward his hip, thrusting steadily into her from behind as he sucked the skin of her neck and played with her rosy nipples. On the verge of orgasm, he dropped his fingers to her clit, stroking firmly against her as his cock disappeared inside of her, sending her over the edge just seconds before he came. 

Afterwards, he cleaned them both gently with a flannel, murmuring soft words about how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, how she was the love of his life. Then he gathered her into his arms and stroked her hair until they were both asleep.

On Christmas morning, as Harry and Daphne and Ginny and Miles sat together in Potter Manor watching James open his gifts, a silvery Jack Russell terrier bounded into the room. Ron’s voice spoke from its mouth: “Luna’s in labor. Kids are with Mum & Dad. We’ll be in touch,” before the patronus evaporated. 

“Looks like you’ll have another cousin soon, mate,” Miles said to James, who nodded excitedly before tearing into another present from his mum and stepdad. 

Later that evening, everyone received the same owl. The note it dutifully carried from St. Mungo’s to their homes read: _Diana Ginevra Weasley was born at 12:12pm. Ginger hair like her brother. Beautiful like her mum and sister. Loves to eat like her dad. Everyone is well. xx_

Five days later, Maggie Elizabeth Longbottom was born. The labor had been very difficult for Pansy, and while she and Maggie slept in their hospital room, Neville laid his head on his arms and wept with relief that both of them were alright. 

He didn’t realize that Pansy was awake until he felt her fingers brush through his thick hair, soothing him with her touch. He looked up into her eyes, so full of exhaustion and love. She beckoned to him and he crawled up onto the bed, gathering her into his arms and holding her close. 

“I was so worried, Pans,” he said, tracing her spine with his fingers. “I was so afraid for you and Maggie, and there was nothing I could do.”

“I know,” she whispered back. “But Neville, don’t you know who I am?”

He smiled against her forehead, pressing a kiss to her soft skin. “Why yes, I do. You’re Pansy Elizabeth Parkinson Longbottom. You’re my wife. You’re Hazel and Maggie’s mummy. And you’re the strongest person I know.”

“Yes, I fucking am,” she confirmed. She laid her head on his chest, loving the feel of his arms coming around her, holding her like she was something precious, someone special. “I love you so much,” she whispered, drifting back to sleep as he repeated the words to her. 

*****

On New Year’s Day, it was Harry and Daphne’s turn. Harry helped Daphne through her contractions, pushing on her hips, supporting her as she sat on a birthing ball, running warm water in the shower stall of the hospital room to have her stand under—anything to help her tolerate the pain her body was experiencing.

Several hours later, Healer Sandhu passed Daphne and Harry the first of their twin babies—a dark-haired, squalling little girl. Harry helped Daphne hold her while she continued to push, and a few moments later another baby’s cries joined its sister’s. 

“Congratulations, Potters!” Healer Sandhu beamed, handing them their second dark-haired baby. “Two healthy girls!”

Harry and Daphne’s owls took announcements to all their friends later that day, letting them know that on the 1st of January, 2011, Annabelle Lily and Evangeline Rose Potter were born. Annie and Evie were both healthy and perfect, according to their proud daddy. He included a picture of James sitting in a chair in the hospital room, holding a tiny bundle in each arm and grinning.

Astoria came to visit her new nieces the day after they arrived home from the hospital, not-so-subtly flashing an enormous emerald engagement ring as she smoothed the blanket over little Annie’s arm. Daphne, who was already on the verge of crying at all times due to her postpartum hormones, burst into happy tears.

*****

At the end of February, everyone gathered for Leo’s second birthday, cooing over the new babies and laughing as their toddlers and older children played together. 

Leo and Apollo were inseparable, stomping around together and holding hands, Leo’s constant chattering balanced nicely by Apollo’s steadfast calm. 

“Fire and ice, those two,” Ron joked, elbowing Draco as he gently swayed back and forth with his fussy newborn daughter. “It’ll be interesting to see what kind of trouble they get up to at Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts,” Draco said, as if just realizing something. “All these babies are going to be in the same year at Hogwarts…”

“Poor professors,” Harry said with a sigh, patting Evie’s back gently as she nuzzled his neck, crying loudly when she realized he did not, in fact, have a nipple there.

This led to a raucous discussion about which house they thought each child of theirs would end up in, with Theo leading a surprisingly fierce defense of Hufflepuff.

“They are kind and loyal,” he argued, “and I can’t think of two better traits for any of our children.”

Although none would ever admit it, they all agreed with him.

*****

March and April passed in a blur for Hermione. Between finishing up some magical creature legislation she’d been working on with Val, setting up their new baby’s nursery at home, and being extremely pregnant while also being the mother of a feisty, strong-willed two-year-old left her without much time to slow down or rest. 

Draco brought Leo by her office almost every day at lunch time, spreading out a blanket on the floor for them to sit and eat on. Leo soaked up his last days of being an only child, snuggling into his mummy’s arms while she ate her lunch, eyes drifting closed in bliss as she ran her fingers through his soft blonde hair. 

At least once a week Draco would show up to her office alone, locking the door behind him as he joined her for “lunch.” They would eat quickly, then spend the rest of the hour making love—on her desk, in her office chair, on the floor, on the small couch against one wall. 

They weren’t alone in that regard. One day as they were spooning in post-coital bliss, they heard the unmistakable sounds of Val’s desk rhythmically thumping against the wall that her office shared with Hermione’s. 

“Guess Theo isn’t so smart after all,” Draco said smugly. “Forgot to cast a muffliato.” 

Hermione went into labor in the early morning hours of the first of May, shaking Draco awake as her contractions intensified. 

“It’s time,” she whispered, and he flew from the bed, hurriedly dressing and sending Poppy to Malfoy Manor to fetch Narcissa, who would stay with Leo while they went to St. Mungo’s.

Mere hours later, after a fast but intense labor, Hermione sat nursing her newborn daughter, holding her close against her bare skin. Draco perched on the bed next to them, stroking the pale blond curls that covered their baby’s tiny head. They had decided to name her something truly befitting a daughter of two lovers of knowledge and learning—Athena. Her middle name was Alexandra, in honor of Hermione’s grandmother.

When Narcissa brought Leo to the hospital to visit his parents and meet his sister, he wrapped his arms around Hermione’s neck, pressing sloppy kisses to her cheek and saying, “Mum-mum-mum,” in her ear. She squeezed him tightly, smiling as he turned in her arms to meet baby Athena.

Draco held her, leaning carefully over the bed so Leo could peer into the blankets and see his sister’s face. “This is your sister, Leo,” Draco said. Leo’s small hand reached out tentatively, eyes looking between his mum and dad to make sure it was okay before gently touching the even smaller fingers of his baby sister’s hand. 

“Sis-tuh” Leo said solemnly, and Hermione beamed proudly at him. 

“Her name is Athena,” Draco continued, nodding encouragingly at his son. “Can you say Athena?”

“Afeena,” Leo repeated obediently, pulling his hand back when Athena began to fuss gently, opening her eyes and looking straight at her big brother. Her fussing stopped momentarily as she took in his face, blinking up at him twice before drifting back to sleep.

“She loves you, Leo,” Hermione whispered to him, kissing his cheek and cuddling him against her.

“Goddess of wisdom, indeed,” Draco agreed.

*****

Theo and Val’s baby—the last in a long line of girls who would rule Hogwarts and someday, the world—was born on the 26th of June. 

Draco took pity on his friend as Theo frantically sent a raven patronus to him every thirty minutes, accusing Hermione of lying about how “childbirth was the most natural thing in the world,” complaining that Val had threatened to stun him if he did not stop questioning the Healer’s expertise, and then finally, in an exhausted but deliriously happy voice, letting him know that he and Val were the proud parents of the most beautiful baby girl ever born—no offense to their wonderful daughter, of course.

They named her Margo Emilia, after Theo’s mother Margaret. Theo, who came from a long, long line of pureblood wizards, realized he had never known true magic until his daughter grasped his finger in her tiny fist. When she smiled at him for the first time, he cried, not knowing his heart could feel that kind of pure love. When she said her first word— _Da, da, da!_ —he declared her the smartest child in the history of the wizarding world.

*****

The years that followed brought more changes. More children, more work, more challenges, more love. But through it all, this once-unlikely group of friends remained constant.

With so much loss, loneliness, and turmoil in their young lives, they had a special appreciation for the gift they’d found in each other. And they all knew that, no matter what happened, they could count on each other. For friendship, for laughter, for karaoke and drinking and children’s birthday parties, for parenting advice or bedroom tips. For a warm, loving environment that their children could grow up in, surrounded by dozens of people who knew, loved, and accepted them for exactly who they were.

As Draco and Hermione lay together in their bed one night, her wild curls spread across her pillow and her cheek pressed to his chest, she laughed softly.

“What is it?” Draco asked.

“I was just thinking about how things used to be between all of us,” she replied. “It’s a bit funny, don’t you think?”

“What, that we’re married and have children together? That those children are best friends with Potter and Weasley’s brats?” he said fondly, smiling down at her before continuing. “That Pans—the scariest, most ball-busting witch I know, is completely smitten with a boy who once fainted in Potions class because Snape snarled at him? That Theo married a woman who is probably making his complete fucking bastard of a father roll over in his grave? That we’ve all become a family and I can’t possibly imagine our lives being any other way?”

She glanced up at his face, surprised to see his eyes welling with tears and his hand trembling as he traced her cheek. 

“That I’m happier than I ever thought possible; not even in my wildest dreams? That I know all our friends feel the same way about their lives?”

Hermione pulled his lips down to hers, kissing him sweetly, telling him without words just how much she loved him. “Yes. Exactly that.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, find me on [Tumblr](https://persephonestone.tumblr.com/) and [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/persephonestone2/). I have lots of pretty pictures of this world there.


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